Gefjun thought, Uh-huh. Sure you will. But she could see that Varinn was practically salivating at the prospect of a new dragon.
“And if my plan fails for some reason, why then, ye have Miss Dyrfinna right here to do the job for ye, and ye can coerce her into fetching the dragons in any way you please,” Papa Ostryg added.
“Our dragons are not as young as they were,” Varinn said. “And their mating flights don’t seem to be taking. None of them are laying eggs or clutching, and we don’t know why. Maybe some emberdragons would add what we need to our dragon matings—and maybe they’d clutch to those.”
“Those little orange emberdragons are fast and their fire is hotter than yer dragons,” he reminded Varinn.
“Dragons in the wild are so rare, though,” Varinn said. “Personally, if I weren’t so stretched thin by this war, I’d strongly encourage you to leave the eggs alone so the dragons can grow to maturity and go out into the world and find mates.”
Papa Ostryg made some grumbling sounds and smoothed some crumbs off his shirt. “Find mates. Hmph. Only if the queen didn’t steal them for herself.”
“There is that. Háthski, bring Dyrfinna to me. You have leave to take one of my black dragons for this mission.”
“Gladly.”
Gefjun squinted at Papa Ostryg. “So, Háthski, how are you going to bring Finna here? She’ll kill you just as soon as you come up to her.”
“I have my methods, sweetums. Yer majesty, look for Dyrfinna to come knocking at yer door here in about a week.”
Yeah, right, Gefjun thought, going back to her breakfast.
9
The Value of an Oath
Dyrfinna
Dyrfinna had been home for a little more than a week. She still hadn’t gained back the weight she’d lost on the dragon isle, and she was still a little wobbly when she walked. But her time at home with her little sister Aesa and her mother had done her much good. She was able to help her mother with some of the daily chores. Aesa would feed the chickens, gather the eggs, and feed and water the goats, all on her own. Dyrfinna helped her mother with the cooking and did a little papermaking for her and cut some new quills for her. Her mother loved to draw small pictures on the paper that she’d made, and then she’d transcribe them onto a hide with many tiny pictures on it—she kept a day-by-day story of her life. It was a thing her mother had done ever since she was a little girl in Vinland. She had a little picture of Dyrfinna on a dragon as one of her most recent entries.
Though Dyrfinna was happy to be home, having long talks with her mother, or telling stories about her battles to her sister, and even walking to her grandma’s house a few times and taking her for walks, just as she used to, Dyrfinna still felt that itch. She was impatient to get back out into the world and return to battle. She loved military life. She loved everything about warfare.
But now that her commanders—which included her own father—had kicked her out of the queen’s army and exiled her to a dragon isle to die, she had no army.
She couldn’t just join up with Varinn’s army, either. She was still loyal to the queen, and to the people of Skala, the city that she called home. Dyrfinna was not about to raise her sword against her own people. She wasn’t about to fight for Varinn, either, because the queen’s own daughter had been a guest in his house and he had killed her. Dyrfinna had known Thora very well, and she’d loved the shy, wistful girl the way the rest of the queen’s kingdom had. Only a monster would have killed such a sweet girl. So Varinn’s army was most definitely out.
So after she healed—where was she going to go?
For all of Dyrfinna’s talk about staying one step ahead of the game, for all the time that she’d tried to always look ahead… that was one place where her brain had always locked up.
She had always known that she’d wanted to be a commander. It was the dream she’d always gone to. But she couldn’t command anything outside of an army. When she’d been thrown onto that dragon isle—by her own father, one of the highest in command of the queen’s forces, no less—she had merely waited to die.
Now that she was home, her only vision of the future was a plain white blank, like the ocean on a bitterly cold winter’s day. Vast nothingness. And that vision frightened her almost more than anything in her life.
That night, Dyrfinna was curled up in her soft blankets, fast asleep, when suddenly Aesa’s screams and Floki’s barking broke through the midnight silence.
“Mommy! Sissy!”
Dyrfinna ran through the house, out of bed before she was even awake. She awoke fully when a stranger, bundling a screaming Aesa over his shoulder, slammed into her and sent her sprawling on the floor.
Where was her sword? No time. Dyrfinna launched herself after him. She heard her mama shouting. Both Dyrfinna and Mama attacked the man.
Floki bit the man’s leg, but the man struck Floki with something in a bag. With a yelp he fell.
“Floki! Aesa!” Dyrfinna shouted, throwing herself at the man, trying to grab Aesa off his shoulder.
“Piss off, girlie.” The man punched her in the lower back, narrowly missing her kidneys. She slammed to the floor again. Her mama was on the floor, already fighting to her feet.
Aesa was screaming as the man ran out of the house.
“Put her down,” Dyrfinna shouted, breathing heavily, about to throw up, running after him.
The door slammed and something heavy slid against it with a bump.
Dyrfinna didn’t even try the door. She flung herself through the thin horn window, crashing to the hard-packed dirt yard outside.
Whoever had Aesa ran from the house. Dyrfinna gave chase, shouting to Aesa, yelling for help.
The man, carrying Aesa, raced across the plaza to a black dragon.
King Varinn’s dragon!
How did it get into the city?
“Stop him, stop him,” Dyrfinna cried, but the man flung Aesa, wrapped in her blankie, over the dragon’s back, then leapt aboard.
“No! She’s only five years old!” Dyrfinna screamed.
The dragon took off with Aesa screaming on its back, and Dyrfinna was screaming to her sister, “I’ll come for you! I’m following as fast as I can!”
Dyrfinna spun to the south. “Dragon, dragon!” she cried, and then, into the wind behind her summons, she whispered the dragon’s name. Whispered it several times, saying, “Please help us, please.”
She saw something white on the ground. It was Puppy, Aesa’s favorite stuffed doll. Dyrfinna picked it up.
That monster.
She was sure that the man who’d stolen Aesa was Papa Ostryg.
He had friends in high places, he’d said. Somebody in a very high place who was perfectly willing to lend Papa Ostryg one of his black dragons.
Dyrfinna knew Papa Ostryg was leading her into a trap.
And yet Dyrfinna rushed into the house to get her armor and weapons, because there was no way on earth she was going into this trap unprepared.
She stood outside with her mama with a small bag packed, her sword and armor on, and her shield over her back, when her fiery emberdragon landed before her.
“I’ll give you two of my finest bulls,” she cried, straps in hand, as the dragon came down.
One would do, but I’ll accept the second one when my babies hatch, the dragon said as she alighted. Oh, the straps again?
“My sister’s been kidnapped.”
The dragon went still, while Dyrfinna threw the straps around her with the help of her mama.
After a moment, the dragon said, Tell me as soon as you are strapped in fully, because I am going to take off very fast.
Dyrfinna threw the straps around her middle. “Mama, get back, quick. I love you.” The final buckle clasped. Dyrfinna quickly yanked each of the three main straps: all were secure. She flattened herself on the dragon’s back and cried, “Dragon, go!”
Two powerful wing strokes, and they shot into the air.
Dyrfinna’s ears popped, popped a
gain, they rose so fast.
In fact, they were rising almost too quickly for her body to handle. Dyrfinna passed out for an instant, but came to almost at once. They had leveled off, thank goodness. She let herself lie on the dragon’s back, gasping for air. “Dragon, do you see them?”
They’ve got a long start, but I can see them, she replied grimly.
The air was so thin up here that Dyrfinna could hardly fill her lungs.
Are you going to be okay? asked the dragon. I’m up here because I can fly much faster in the thin air.
Dyrfinna nodded weakly, then realized the dragon needed words. “I’m fine. Keep flying in whatever way gets us there most quickly.”
If she passed out, at least she was strapped in.
“Dragon,” she said, “They took Aesa because they want your babies.”
The dragon hissed. They won’t have them.
“I know. And I told that man that he could not have any. I told him that I had given my sacred word, and if I broke covenant, I would be killed. But some men refuse to understand the value of a sacred oath.”
The dragon was silent for a long moment. Actually, Dyrfinna realized when she came to again, the dragon had been silent because she’d passed out again. But now the air was thicker. She took a deep breath and filled her lungs.
I brought my flight down a little bit. Maybe now you can breathe, she said.
“Thank you.”
I must get back to my eggs as swiftly as possible, the dragon said. If they’re after my children, there’s no time for me to waste.
“I understand,” Dyrfinna said. “Just get me to the King Varinn’s keep. If you get me there, I can do the rest. Go back home and protect your babies.”
I’ve been following that dragon’s smell through the air, she said. It’s getting stronger.
And then the dragon said, I see them.
She started into a dive.
“Dragon.” Dyrfinna said. “Don’t forget, my sister is on the back of that dragon.”
The dragon braked with her wings just a little, huffed out a little flame. I could have taken him out.
“Don’t worry,” said Dyrfinna, looking ahead. “You’ll still get your chance.”
In the blue haze of distance, in the midnight shadows, were a few lights that looked like torches over a moonlit sea. But near that place, a few loose tongues of fire rose up, very small flames that started flickering back as if blown back by the wind. Or if the flames were coming out of the mouths of dragons flying toward Dyrfinna very fast.
“How many dragons do you see?” Dyrfinna asked.
Four, said the dragon.
“I don’t see as many, but I am not as good with dragon signs as you are.”
That’s because you’re not a dragon.
“What is your strategy?”
Take every dragon out of commission fast and burn the piss out of everybody. I don’t have a lot of time.
Dyrfinna quailed, but said, “Then let’s do it. Do I need my sword out?”
No. Just hold on tight.
Dyrfinna leaned in low on the dragon’s neck and tightened her grip on the forward strap.
“Remember,” Dyrfinna told the dragon, “that every one of those dragons and the men on them is letting some idiot steal my baby sister away from her home as a hostage, because they want to force me to steal your babies.”
I feel very motivated. The dragon banked sharply and tipped forward into a screamingly steep freefall.
Instantly Dyrfinna went weightless in the straps, utterly unmoored from gravity. The dragon’s scales turned a brilliant, fiery orange all over its body from the air rushing over her.
They hurtled down through the dark like a shooting star, plummeting so fast that Dyrfinna blacked out again briefly.
But she came to very suddenly when the dragon bottomed out in its dive, blasting a gout of white hot flame into a black dragon’s face when they couldn’t get out of the way in time. They bottomed out and Dyrfinna’s body went from weightless to three times its ordinary weight. The emberdragon’s heat scalded her as they flew just below it.
Then they were out, the black dragon falling away behind them, flapping helplessly, as the emberdragon hurtled upward again on pure momentum.
Two of the black dragons were coming down in a steep dive at them.
Hold on, said the dragon, as if Dyrfinna’s fingers weren’t already locked on to the forward grip strap.
The dragon’s climb went into an incline just as steep, and she fired a huge fireball right into their faces. Those two dragons flung themselves backwards so hard, trying to protect their riders, that they nearly fell out of the sky.
One left, the emberdragon said, veering hard right so she wouldn’t fly directly into the fireball she’d just made.
“Where’s Aesa?”
Below that dragon. The last dragon followed a black dragon well below them, coasting along over Aesa’s dragon, wings out. That top dragon is trying to protect the kidnapper and your sister from us.
“Please,” Dyrfinna said. “Don’t use fire on either of those two dragons unless Aesa is clear.”
No fear! There are a million ways to fight. The emberdragon closed her wings entirely and once again dropped out of the sky like a stone, a three-ton stone, crash-landing onto the back of the black dragon. Dyrfinna’s teeth slammed together from the impact, but the scream of the dragon below her was awful to hear.
The emberdragon threw her wings open to brake, her talons around the first dragon’s back. Like a falcon at war, she grabbed the first dragon and flung it aside, and it tumbled, helpless, through the air.
The dragon with Aesa threw a gout of fire at them once they were wide open for attack.
Dyrfinna had her sword out. “Please, dragon!” she said, as they dove for Aesa.
I’ll do my best.
But ahead, six more dragons came flying from King Varinn’s keep. They were nearly to that dark, forbidding place.
Aesa’s blanket wriggled. Her little bare foot worked free and kicked the dragonrider.
“Lower in, lower in,” she shouted at the dragon. “We have to get her!”
But the dragonrider looked up at Dyrfinna’s voice, flying almost in tandem below her. She couldn’t see his face, as a helm covered his head that allowed only the eyes, mouth and bearded chin to show. His scowl was unmistakable, though. Papa Ostryg leaned his dragon to the right to get out from under Dyrfinna’s dragon, and smacked Aesa’s foot. From under the blanket, Aesa burst out in a fresh sobbing.
“Knock that cretin off the dragon’s back,” Dyrfinna hissed.
The emberdragon swooped in fast, talons out at the man, who slashed at her feet with a sword.
The emberdragon hissed, pulling her feet back. The sword is ensorcelled, she said.
Dyrfinna swiftly untied one strap and reknotted it, then pulled her sword. “Keep me within his reach,” she said, then flung herself over the side.
The strap held, and she was flying, upside down, next to the emberdragon’s right talon. Dyrfinna, the blood running to her face, parried Papa Ostryg’s sword and slashed at him with her dagger. Aesa was almost within her reach ….
He shouted some command in his thick Pictland brogue, and his dragon veered off. The emberdragon was after them just as quickly. Dyrfinna roared, her sword flying.
He just clicked his tongue and tapped his boots on the side of his black dragon—and the black dragon pulled his wings shut and simply fell out of Dyrfinna’s reach—just as the other six dragons came flying in.
“No!” Dyrfinna cried.
The six dragons opened a space between them just large enough for Papa Ostryg’s dragon to slip through. His black dragon opened his wings and glided on toward Varinn’s keep. The incoming dragons immediately closed ranks, wing to wing, as they flew at her.
Dyrfinna scrambled onto the emberdragon’s back, slung her shield over her back, and tucked herself as small as possible under it, dug her hands and toes under the st
raps, and began singing a bubble of protection against the fire.
She knew full well what had happened last time she’d sung, but six dragons were blasting out flame at Dyrfinna and the emberdragon.
The emberdragon banked hard to the left, as if in a bad dream where everything slows down and you can’t escape your oncoming death.
Though the emberdragon’s body was between Dyrfinna and the fire, the fireball from the six dragons became a solid bank of fire pushing toward her, its flames reaching around the emberdragon’s wings and body, curling around Dyrfinna, and her sleeves began to smoke and her hair curled with a crackling noise in her ears. The emberdragon banked fast but the flames came on faster, enveloping Dyrfinna.
She sang out against it with what little oxygen she had left.
This fire, created to keep her from saving her little sister.
Dyrfinna had promised to always save her.
And now wrapped in a blanket, Aesa was being borne away.
And they were blasting a solid wall of fire at her to keep her from following.
Dyrfinna’s heart broke with the fury of it.
She had let her sister down.
She had broken that promise.
Because she was going to die.
Curled like a turtle on the back of her dragon, Dyrfinna cried out her heart’s grief, ringing like a bell.
Singing out a prayer for her sister against that fire as she began to burn.
And she closed her mouth as the fire washed over her.
But she hummed her note, and it rushed out from her.
She smelled her shield burning.
Buried her face in her arms, sucked in a little air.
And she sang again, three words in anguish from within the roiling fire.
And something struck Dyrfinna like a falling rock.
She reeled, not able to respond to anything.
A concussion slammed into Dyrfinna and she reeled in the straps, which now smoked and caught fire.
But a roar of music filled her ears.
A Fire of Roses Page 8