A Dragon's Betrayal

by C L Patterson

  “Here, drink this,” Japeth said, handing Maerek a canteen as juices from the fish drizzled onto the hot bed of coals. Maerek took a drink. It was a sweet and bitter drink that congealed on his tongue and teeth, forming little beads of something similar to honey. Maerek coughed took another swill.

  “It’s good,” Maerek said, passing back the canteen.

  “It’s mead,” Japeth said, pushing the canteen back. “Take another long drink of it.” Maerek took two more gulps and passed the handed the drink back to Japeth. “Now, where’re you headin’ next? Do you have anywhere to go?”

  “I need to get to Noiknaer. I promised a friend that I would find his daughter who is kept there as a slave.”

  “Terrible,” Japeth said which was followed by grunts of agreement from the others. “And where is your friend?”

  “Dead. He sacrificed his life so that we,” Maerek nodded over to the girl, “could escape. I promised him I would save his daughter if I was freed.”

  “And how exactly did you escape?” Japeth asked. “Prior to rescuing Ledría, that is.”

  “My friend was already a prisoner of the hunters and had been for some time. It wasn’t long after I was captured that he found a way to free himself and me from the restraints. After he freed me, he stayed behind and covered our escape.”

  “It’s a promise in blood then?”

  “More than you’ll know,” Maerek replied somberly and looked back into the fire. “I suppose I’ll be heading south a way, try to make my way to a river town and then work on a barge for passage to Tessír.”

  “You could come with us if you’re up for it,” Keane said, smiling slightly.

  “Aye, you could,” Japeth started. “We’re headin’ through the Blades and then to the desert. You’re welcome to come with us if you share in the work. I’ll warn you, as will my friends, it isn’t a journey to take lightly. Once at the desert, you should be able to travel with a caravan to Noiknaer.”

  Maerek looked back into the fire. The songs of the pass rang through his mind with stern warning. But even in that warning, the actual threat was vague. It stirred primal emotions of fear, flight, anxiety, that even in Maerek’s mental state, made him wary. The memory of his Keep, the heart of his family, sang against crossing the Blades, but the oath to Boshk, and the time it would take to sail around the southern continent of Caite, forced a conclusion Maerek didn’t want to face.

  “You’ve taken this journey before, I take it?” Maerek queried.

  “Aye,” Japeth replied. “And not a one of us has died. Though we have had our fair share of scrapes with the Blades.”

  “Then I’ll come with you, and thank you for the offer, as well as the food, mead, and clothes.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Japeth said. “You can consider rescinding your gratitude when you see what you’re up against.”

  Keane and Naeru passed out metal plates, knives, forks, and cloth napkins as the fish finished cooking.

  “None for me, thank you,” Maerek said holding up his hands, “I’m not all that hungry.”

  “Mourning on a full stomach is much easier than an empty one,” Japeth said. Maerek looked at him, and then at Ledría. “She told us about what happened to your family. Eat… trust me, it helps.”

  Maerek picked up the knife and fork in one hand and adjusted his plate with the other. The skewer was passed around the circle and each person took off one fully cooked trout. The taste of the mead blended perfectly with the juicy fish, earthy tubers and sweet berries. Maerek savored every bite, chewing slowly and rolling each morsel round his tongue. As they ate, Japeth explained the history of the trading company. Specifically, Japeth wasn’t the founder of the party, but that he joined with other hunters and traders six years ago and was already the senior member.

  “Contrary to what some might think, death has not been the sole reason for the high turnover. It takes a lot out of a man, or woman” he said nodding over at Ledría, “crossing the Blades more than once. It is a gamble, crossing them Blades, and every step through steals more life than it should.”

  “Why do it then?” Maerek asked, mouth half full of fish.

  “What we do isn’t exactly legal according to the Tessíran government,” Japeth replied. “I think Aelex has more to say on that point. Sharp as a stick he is, and he’s been with us only four months.”

  Aelex smiled and shrugged. He was a younger man, probably late teenage years, with tight brown curly hair and blue eyes. Visually taking in the human all at once, Maerek saw that he lacked the physique of a laborer but was not as gangly and thin as one who spent too much time in books with not enough food. There was some muscle definition in his arms that hinted at a decent physical strength that could handle a day’s work if needed. Freckles dotted his nose and cheeks as well as small scars of past, severe pubescent acne.

  “The Tessíran government restricted trade and moved more toward a centrally planned arrangement with other countries. Tariffs and outrageous standards were placed on edible goods but considering the massive demand as compared to other nations, foreign companies and governments agreed, thus fueling the corrupt system. Then, after taking a moderate income from other countries, the Three Brothers Syndicate, which is run by Aldaír, in conjunction with the newly formed centralized bureau of internal commerce, placed hefty taxes on the same edible goods and wares.

  “What ended up happening was a race to the bottom in terms of price for merchants that sold to the common people. Most master craftsmen and women, as well as their apprentices and journeymen had to quit and join the Syndicate for a much smaller wage in order to survive. That left the Three Brothers Syndicate with a majority share in the market for food and food products.”

  “With the lack of competition, then the Syndicate was able to charge whatever price they wanted,” Maerek interjected. “Leaving your team an opening to undercut them just enough on the fringe and make a decent profit.”

  “Exactly!” Japeth said, slapping his knee. “Hence the turnover. Yes, the trek is hard, but very worthwhile over a few short years. The other side is that we have to bring enough of the right type of item to make it worth our while.

  “Common commodities, even in Tessír, are simply that,” Aelex said, between bites, his mouth half full of fish. “Commodities aren’t worth the risk. But seasonings, pelts, furs, rare dried meats, those are what will line your pockets.”

  “And the rest of you have no skill for bartering, for negotiation?” Maerek asked, leaning forward. Keane coughed to clear his throat and made a subtle, lean back type of motion. Maerek understood and pulled away from the fire.

  “Sorry about that,” Keane said, coughing once more. “It isn’t that lack the skill for trade, but find it fitting for each man to stick to his specialty and diversify the group. Thomas, what was that saying, something about specialties and weaknesses.”

  “A wise man once said that the overspecialization of a group naturally breeds in weakness,” Thomas replied. “The same can be said of plant-life. If plants are grown and reproduced for a specific trait, eventually they become susceptible to diseases, micro-organisms, or insects.”

  “Besides being a fisher, what is your specialty,” Maerek asked, nodding over to Naeru.

  “I handle and break the suon,” Naeru said, taking another bite of fish. “I may or may not be involved in a spice route between the Burning Isles, my home country of Caite and the barges that stop in at Ruiska.”

  Maerek smiled at that, went to take another bite of his fish, and then realized that his plate was empty.

  “Not hungry?” Japeth asked with a grin.

  “I suppose I was,” Maerek said, placing his plate beside him. He checked himself, mentally, feeling for the Instinct, and making sure that any subconscious behaviors were not surfacing. The Instinct was slightly subdued, but he was content that there wasn’t a glimmer of anger or dimwittedness. The smell of the roasted trout and berries was too good to pass up, Maerek decided. “And it wa
s by far, one of the best meals I’ve had in a long while. Thank you.” The hunts and gluttonous feasts of Moving mountain were mentally and physically satisfying, satiating hunger as well as primal rage. Yet this meal, though simple, opened up a new exploratory need for cooked cuisine.

  “You’re most welcome,” Naeru replied.

  Thomas placed another log on the fire. Embers danced and flickered like red fireflies in the plume of smoke before fading out into ash and blowing away in the chill of the night. The smoke that so easily rose above the tree line was stunted and flattened before gently traveling and dispersing into the forest. A layer of cold air from the mountains was slowly descending downward. Maerek looked down at the fire again.

  “Looks like it’s going to be another chill night,” Thomas said. “We best get the tent up for the evening. I’ll take first watch, and Maerek can sleep in my place.”

  “Then, I’ll take second watch,” Maerek replied. “I’ve had enough sleep to go without for few hours, and your band of traders has been more than kind. I’ll help you set up the tent.”

  Thomas led Maerek back to the wagon. There was a plethora of camping gear within the storage area of the tent. Ropes of various sizes ranging from finger width to near arm width, were tied in neat braided chains and wrapped around metal rings, so not to get tangled in the journey. Boxes were stacked and tied off toward the front of the wagon and were labeled with black, burned-in lettering. If the lettering was to be believed, the boxes contained various types of spices, salted meats, dried fruit, and animal skins. Maerek was only able to smell the animal pelts, picking up on the subtle musk of mink and otter. Towards the back of the wagon, there was a hatchet and a smaller box with a lid and hinges labeled ‘fire’. Maerek gave a small chuckle. Next to it was a smaller box of cedar wood that was labeled ‘medic’. Extra clothes were tied up in neat bundles, and there was an extra box labeled ‘fishing gear’. Keane’s bow and quiver of arrows were also in the wagon.

  Amidst all of the boxes that were labeled with burned lettering, were a few smaller boxes and barrels that were unmarked. Maerek assumed they might contain additional food, water containers, rain cloaks, and other cooking supplies that were not used in the evening meal. Thomas was undoing one of the larger strands of rope from around the metal ring and pointed down at the folded-up canvas with metal grommets on the edges and a blanket that was tied up on top of the canvas with three pieces of twine.

  “That’s the tent there,” Thomas said. “Take it back to the camp, and the others will help you get it started.” Maerek took the bundle back to the camp, and the traders help unfold and spread the canvas over where the fallen trees formed a ‘V’ shape. Using the rope that Thomas pulled out of the wagon, the group took turns threading the rope through the grommets, underneath the logs, and then back through the grommets to secure the canvas. The excess canvas material was tucked into the covering area to create a rear fabric wall. The blanket was actually multiple pieces of elk hide that was sown together, and then trimmed to form a neat rectangle shape. The blanket was placed fur side up under the covering. When the shelter was finished, it formed a neat wedge-shaped sucked in heat from the fire.

  Japeth gestured for Maerek to be the first to enter. He bowed slightly and picked a spot next to the log. Since he was going to be taking the next watch, he figured that would be an easy place as to not disturb his fellow travelers. Others crawled in after him, but Maerek hardly noticed. The warmth of the fire and his recent meal added to his drowsiness.

  He didn’t want to sleep. He thought of Moving Mountain, of his parents, his cousins, and the sacrifice, but he didn’t mourn. He thought of the hunters, the cockatrices, and Simmons. There were more like him in Noiknaer, and perhaps he could get a portion of his revenge there, but he would have to get to Noiknaer first, and that meant crossing the Blades. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his memories from the cave. The dragon blood was being tainted, giving the drinker regenerating abilities, and that same blood was shipped to the capital. But why would the capital want dragon’s blood? Would they use it in an army? Was it being sold to the officials to keep them in power? Was it being used to heal the sick? Maerek clenched his eyes, forcing those thoughts out of his head and reminisced on happier memories.

  He recalled the many wedding feasts at Moving Mountain, of his many cousins, their colors, their laughter, and their smells. These happier memories transformed into Boshk’s memories of Mearto, and those memories changed again into pleasant dreams.

  CHAPTER 7

  Maerek felt someone tap his shoulder. He sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and looked to see who woke him. It was Aelex. Maerek looked past him and saw the light of a very early dawn. Sparrows and robins chirped and sang from tree branches as the shadows of night began to fade into the gray morning.

  “You’re safe,” Aelex said. Maerek looked in the tent. Everyone else had already packed their belongings and were starting to break camp. “We’re leaving soon.”

  “Sorry,” Maerek said as started to get up. “Why didn’t I get watch?”

  “Japeth said you needed your rest. Today though, there will be plenty of opportunity for work.”

  Maerek’s first job was to help break down the tent and stow it away in the wagon. While he was undoing the lashings, others buried the fire, hooked the suon up to the wagon. Next, an inventory was taken, both of the camping supplies, food stores, rope, and suchlike, as well as the goods and wares that were to be traded. With Maerek’s extra help, the group was off just before sunrise.

  There were no distinct markers pointing to the trade path, but Naeru guided the suon and wagon out of the camp as if there were. Before too long, the group turned onto a visible trail. Ruts in the ground from wagon wheels, and compacted earth were sign enough that this path was used by many more than the band of traders.

  The trail continued to follow the river relatively closely, bending away from it at times to form a series of switchbacks up a steep hill, just to meet up with it again before the river turned to violent rapids. As the group was turning on a particularly steep and sharp switch back, the suon grunted, stomped, and turned its head toward Maerek and hissed. The sudden movement from the suon turned the cart just enough around the turn of the switch back to jam one of the wheels in a rut.

  Everyone rushed to the cart, pushing on the back. Maerek grabbed hold of the spokes of the wheel that were in the rut and started to pull, careful not to overexert himself and break the wooden spokes.

  “Whoa Seelee, whoa!” Naeru yelled as the cart and it started to tilt down the hill. Maerek pushed against the cart, setting it back down on the path. As it set, the wheel lifted out of the rut, and the cart moved forward.

  “He usually isn’t like that,” Naeru said, “it must be the smell of the hunters he doesn’t like. It would be best for you to stay at the back today, at least till he grows comfortable with you.”

  Maerek stood still as the cart moved forward. He looked up toward the next switchback and caught a glimpse of the Broken Blades. The sun gleamed off of the pearly snow-covered peaks. They were like distant giants that stayed one step ahead of them. Maerek sighed and walked on. The suon looked back at Maerek every chance he could. Naeru whipped on the reigns to straighten out the wagon.

  “Best to stay back a little further,” Naeru called. “I’ll yell if I need you.”

  Maerek waited until the suon and the traders pulled through the next switch back and up the next climb before he started walking again. As he reached the next switchback, Keane was leaning against a tree, looking down at the freshly made impressions of the wagon wheels on the trail.

  “Figured I’d stay behind a bit with you, keep you company.”

  “Thanks?” Maerek asked. The sudden conversational tone from one who reacted so coldly to him the night before was perplexing. Keane either wanted information or was prepared to give some words of warning.

  Together, the two stayed almost a full switchback away from the wagon, w
alking quietly, neither speaking or looking at the other. When they reached the top of the hill and the trail leveled out, Keane motioned for Maerek to slowdown. The suon, traders, and even Keane were breathing heavily, hearts racing from the climb.

  “Bend over, hands on your knees, like you’re out of breath and going to be sick,” Keane whispered. Maerek complied. “Maerek’ll need a rest, we’ll catch up, in a bit,” Thomas called out to the group. Japeth responded with a wave, not even looking back. Ledría looked back, frowning and her brow bent in concern.

  “This won’t take long,” Keane whispered, bending over also as to imitate Maerek. “I know who and what you are Maerek, and on your blood, do you swear that you have no interest in taking Ledría as a permanent companion of any sort?”

  “What?” Maerek replied, startled by the ferocity of the question.

  “Do you-”

  “I heard what you said,” Maerek cut him off. “No. She was, like me, a captive. Yes, I am aware of the talent given her by the Faye. Yes, I did benefit from it at the command of our captors. I have no desire nor do I intend to maintain her company for future benefit of her gift beyond that which she can bare to me of her own free will, or at least until our journey comes to an end and we separate to our own paths.”

  “Then why did you save her? Ledría told us where she was, and where you were held prior to your escape. It would’ve been easier to escape on your own. Why risk it? Unless you wanted her gifts?”