A Dragon's Betrayal

by C L Patterson

  “Leave it,” Keane said to the guard. The young man appeared to be around sixteen years of age. He had grey eyes and black hair. His hands and wrists were riddled with nicks and scars, evidence of blade practices and mistakes. The guard stood up and looked at Keane. “His is the first life you have taken?”

  The guard nodded.

  “And you took his life with his back turned to you. Why? You understand that you will be hanged for what you have done or, at best, sent to the Gate for life?”

  “Yes,” the guard said quickly. “What he… we, were doing, was wrong. Killing innocent traders, slaving and trafficking Conduits to the highest bidder, slaughtering and harvesting creatures. It’s all wrong.”

  “You had orders! It isn’t your place to judge them!”

  “I saved your life!”

  Keane still had an arrow knocked on his bowstring. In one flash of motion, Keane raised his bow, drew back the string and embedded the arrow in a tree.

  “His death would have been at my hand had you stilled yours.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good,” Keane spoke as he walked over to the tree to retrieve his arrow. “A militia is built on discipline, giving and following orders, not on individual thought or preference. If you understand, I will ask you again. Why did you kill your commanding officer?” The other guards stayed still, hesitant from the sudden vacuum of leadership.

  “Because what he… what we, were doing was wrong.”

  “Right and wrong can be debated,” Naeru said.

  “My mother taught me different,” the guard said defensively. “No matter the situation, right will always be right and wrong will always be wrong. Killing innocent traders, slaving and trafficking Conduits to the highest bidder, capturing and harvesting and feasting on the raw flesh of rare creatures. Everything about it is wrong. You have done nothing to warrant death, so we hesitated, and I did what I thought was right to defend you.”

  “So, say you one, so say you all?” Keane asked to the group.

  “Sir, yes, sir!” the group replied instinctually.

  “And of those who started to advance on us, what say you?” Keane asked, looking at each in tune. One of them approached. He was taller than the guard who threw the knife, and seemed older, hints of blond and brown whiskers growing under his chin and on his cheeks. “What is your name?” Keane asked the guard.

  “Ryece, sir,” the guard replied.

  “How old are you, Ryece?”

  “Fifteen, sir. I advanced on you because it is as you said. We had orders.”

  “And why did you stop?”

  “When you aimed your arrow on the lieutenant… I… I, wasn’t ready to die for this.”

  “Then you are a coward,” Keane replied with an analytical tone.

  “I didn’t say I was afraid,” Ryece replied, offended. “I said I wasn’t ready to die for this, to die to keep this mission secret. It’s like Emmer said. Us older boys, we knew the Captain before he was killed. Others joined in after his death for revenge on the nomadic tribes. But murdering civilians isn’t what he taught us, isn’t what he stood for, isn’t what any of us stand for.

  “We have been shipped around Caite, up the coast of the Wiles, and marched up this pass where we have suffered cold and hunger for the last week with nothing more to eat than hard tack bread and stale water. Most of us the younger boys have been conscripted into service with minimal pay to our families.”

  “You can’t go back. What do you plan to do?” Keane asked as he placed his arrow in his boot and hung his bow over his shoulder. The young band looked over his shoulder at the other guards, still in formation.

  “And what of your families?” Aelex asked.

  “It’s been something I have been thinking about ever since we left on this mission,” Emmer said. “Some of our group were killed in the fire from the ambush, others from exhaustion and exposure. There was a terrible storm when we came up from the south-end of Caite, and few men went overboard, lost at sea. For us, if we are found alive and without the dragon or the girl, our families will be the ones to pay the price and we will be sent to the Gate. It is better for them if we are reported as dead.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Keane said cautiously.

  “I plan to take on work in Ruiska,” Ryece commented, looking at the other, now former guards. “Or I could take on work on board one of the merchant boats. Any life there is better than a life lived in servitude to Tessír.”

  “The boy speaks truth,” Naeru commented. “A merchant ship would be lucky enough to have such strength as your band has here, both of spirit and of body. The story of your death in the mountains is one that will be easily spreadable and accepted as truth by the townspeople of Ruiska. It is a good place for rebirth.”

  “We know how to make and break camp easily enough.” Emmer continued. He paused and looked back at the others. A few nodded in some unseen communication. “The food we stole from you is back at the campsite that the dragon burned. A few of us are there, tending the fire and standing guard in case you return. We will bring your food stuffs and tradable goods to you, if you are patient enough to wait a portion of the morning.” Japeth smiled and looked back at the traders, now understanding the unseen communication. The other traders, except Aelex, smiled in return and nodded. Aelex placed his fist on his chin and stared down at the ground.

  “Keep it, as both a reward for good judgement and as a gift from one trader and traveler to another.”

  “Perhaps a trade then. Our swords and armor for your food rations?”

  “No, no,” Japeth said, putting up his hands in mild refusal. “You will be able to trade your equipment for your journey back, and then purchase more useful wares in Ruiska. Instead, let us tend to the dead lieutenant and let you be on your way.”

  With an agreement reached, the young detachment began their march to Ruiska, each youth saluting the traders as they passed. After the detachment was out of sight, Japeth looked at the entrance to the Blades, and then down at the dead lieutenant.

  “At least we have bait for the pass,” Keane said, kicking the corps in the ribs. Japeth put a finger to his lips, commanding silence. He paced slowly to the cart and stared down the path. He then motioned for the traders next to him.

  “Do you think any will come back?” Japeth whispered.

  “I doubt it,” Keane replied in the same hushed tone. “The boys, though stoic, are fatigued, physically and emotionally.”

  “It is the fruit of conscription without patriotism,” Naeru added quietly.

  “That being the case, take Naeru with you and circle the area a couple times. Bring any you find back here. I want to make sure we will be left alone.”

  “You think like the dragon,” Keane smiled.

  After the Keane and Naeru disappeared into the woods, Japeth looked at Aelex, who was staring intently down the trail. “That was a good question you raised, Aelex, about their families.” Aelex didn’t respond right away, still staring down the trail. “Aelex? What’s on your mind?”

  Aelex shook himself, glanced briefly at the cart and then looked at Japeth.

  “If I could trust them, I would have gone with those boys.” Aelex whispered longingly. “Disappearance under the guise of death in the mountains, a detachment of soldiers willing to forsake their nation, it is a great opportunity for rebirth as Naeru said. But, for her, it would be easy to start over, to be free. And for them, it is easy to plant seeds of revolution.”

  “It’ll take time,” Thomas replied in a soft tone, “for her and the boys. Those seeds are planted. I could see it in their eyes. Remember, a tree easily planted is easily uprooted. Revolutions take time, years, even decades of planning and waiting. The Wiles did not become as they are in a fortnight.”

  Aelex tapped the side of the cart and leaned over the canvas. Japeth put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head enough for only Aelex to notice.

  CHAPTER 12

  Ledría wormed her
hand in-between the layers of blanket that wrapped around the dragon. When her fingers touched his ear, she worked her hand down Maerek’s neck and checked a pulse. It was dark in the cart, and the canvas tarp that covered them let it only enough light to see vague outlines. His skin was still chill to the touch. His breathing was different. Instead of shallow, weak breaths, Maerek now breathed deeply, evenly, as if he were only sleeping. Ledría withdrew her hand, closed her eyes and channeled up the green healing light to her hands. Carefully, she placed her hands on Maerek’s chest. The light ebbed from her hands onto Maerek’s bare flesh, and then pulsed with each of his heartbeats. With each pulse, the green light spread across Maerek and sank into his body.

  “Yes,” She breathed. She placed her hand on his neck again, feeling for the dragon’s pulse. It was growing stronger, and the skin was warmer. This time the healing was working. Ledría communed with the Faye again, and again she placed the healing light on Maerek. The light acted the same way, slowly crossing from her hands to his body, pulsing and expanding, and then entering his body, warming and healing him.

  As the light dissipated, Maerek breathed in sharply, fists clenching, muscles tensing. Ledría reached for the Faye again and then placed another glowing hand on Maerek’s chest. Maerek gripped her wrist tightly and she let out a squeak of pain. Maerek relaxed and let go of her wrist.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice rough and horse. “I’m sorry,” he said again as Ledría pulling her wrist to her chest, holding it tightly as she shook her head.

  “Be quiet and lay still,” Ledría hissed. “We will know soon if it is alright to move.”

  Maerek checked his limited surroundings for clues. Ledría ordered for silence and stillness. The air tasted the same as he last remembered it, which meant they hadn’t yet gone through the pass. He was wrapped in a blanket, laid in the cart, with a canvas tarp overhead. The cart wasn’t moving. The suon was close by, tethered most likely, to the cart. Maerek could smell blood, human blood, outside the cart, and it had a faint foulness to it that reminded him of Simmons. Three other humans stood nearby. He knew they were his friends, the traders, as both he and Ledría were still secluded. For now, they were safe. But their lack of communicating with Ledría meant that the traders were unsure if the area was safe. There was still a chance that someone, or a group of people, were hiding in the woods nearby, searching for a dragon and Conduit girl.

  Maerek continued to wait for what seemed like most of the morning. Ledría lay next to him and both were silent, moving as little as possible. After what seemed like hours, Keane, and Naeru returned to the camp.

  “Those boys are deadset on Ruiska. We followed them for a while, and then circled back to make sure we didn’t miss anyone,” Keane said to the group.

  “And there’s no chance you two were followed back?” Japeth asked.

  “No chance,” Naeru replied. “If anything, they are eager to begin their new lives.”

  “Did you hear that?” Aelex said as he slapped the side of the cart twice, he untied the corner of the canvas that was draped over the cart. Ledría climbed out of the cart with the brown blanket wrapped around her like an oversized cloak.

  “How is Maerek doing?” Keane asked, walking up to the cart.

  “He’d be better if he had some clothes to wear!” Ledría commented, drawing attention to herself. Then, slowly, Maerek began to emerge from the cart. Everyone rushed to him and helped him out of the cart and onto his feet. Ledría removed the brown blanket and wrapped around Maerek’s shoulders.

  “We all thought you weren’t going to make it!” Keane said as he hugged Maerek. “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure,” Maerek said, rubbing his shoulders for warmth. “One moment I was carrying you all out of that trap, and the next, I felt this warm, energizing pulse in my chest. Next thing I knew, I was in the cart next to Ledría.”

  “I thought you said your healing gift wasn’t working?” Japeth asked.

  “It wasn’t,” Ledría replied. “At least not until after I offered that prayer, I think. The channeling only took affect after the soldiers left.”

  Japeth was about to ask another question, but Naeru spoke up first.

  “We are grateful you are with us,” he said to Ledría, bowing slightly, “and are equally grateful for your offering of your gift on Maerek’s behalf.”

  “You saved my life, Ledría,” Maerek said solemnly. He paused, grunted, and growled. “There are not the right words in the common tongue for this. We are bonded. I shall aid you, help you, care for you if needed.”

  “And I you,” Ledría replied with a slight bow. Maerek returned the bow, and as he did, smoke billowed out of his nose and mouth, enveloping both the Conduit and the dragon. In the next moment, Maerek stepped out of the cloud, craned his neck, breathed in and let out a deep chested rumble.

  “I smell blood,” the dragon growled. He breathed in again and smacked his tongue, rolling the taste in his mouth. “Human blood.” The corpse of the lieutenant was a couple steps away for the dragon. He turned toward and shoved his nose onto the dead body. The scent of cold blood, this blood, reminded him again of the ambush on his keep, of the hunters that wouldn’t die, and of Simmons. The dagger stuck at the base of the neck severed and wedged between vertebra and spinal column. Even if the lieutenant was regenerating, he couldn’t move, speak, or breath. If he was mentally alive within the body, he was trapped until the dagger was removed.

  “You may want to look away for this,” Maerek said.

  Maerek stood up and laid one heavy claw down on the lieutenant’s chest, ribs cracking under the pressure. Without hesitation, Maerek bent down, placing his teeth around the neck of the body, being careful not to remove or adjust the position of the dagger. He lifted the head slightly, using his tongue to slowly work the skull toward the back of his mouth while he bent his head further down and at an angle, so that his cheek was almost touching the ground. Then in a sudden motion, he snapped his jaws shut severing flesh and bone from the torso. Blood pumped into his mouth with the sudden release of pressure. Maerek spat out the head as much of the foul liquid as possible as he shunted the body away from him.

  The traders turned back to the dragon. Aelex gagged slightly, seeing the violent spray pattern of dark red on dirt. The stench of blood and taint covered the lieutenant, making the clothing and armor unsalvageable.

  Maerek turned his attention back to the pass and sniffed the air savagely. There was a hint of rot, decay, and mold, what the humans might consider a damp smell, but Maerek was familiar with it enough to know otherwise. It was the smell of death, and it flowed out of the pass like a slow rolling mist. The dragon recalled on the song of the place, hearing the echoes of warnings and fear repeated in a staccato chant in his memory. Yet the song sang only of fear and foreboding, lacking definition of what he, and those of his kin, were supposed to fear.

  “Maerek?” Aelex said as he placed a hand on Maerek’s side. Maerek shook his head as if awakening from some sort of trance.

  “Yes?”

  “I asked you if you were ready to move on,” Aelex said slowly.

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

  “Do you need a rest day? Honestly, I wasn’t sure you would survive the night.”

  “Your concern is warranted,” Maerek said slowly, purposefully not answering the question. He blew smoke from his nose, enveloping himself in a cloud of gray that seemed to match the sky, and then emerged in his human form. “Japeth, when do you figure we start through that pass?”

  Japeth stared at Maerek and shook his head.

  “Back from the dead, saved us twice over, and back into death you wish to go. I would not be so eager, Maerek.”

  “I’m aware of the dangers,” Maerek snapped as he grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. He quickly rubbed his forehead. “Sorry about that. The hunger, it is beginning to grow again.”

  Keane walked back to the cart and rummaged around
various supplies. He grunted and then reached for his quiver, but it too, like the cart, was empty.

  “How much longer, Maerek?” Naeru asked quietly. “When was the last time you properly ate?”

  “The last decent meal I remember was the night that my cousin was joined with Roaring Cove. There was that cockatrice I ate after Ledría and I escaped, but that was not filling enough. I should be of sound mind until we reach the other side of the Blades.”

  Maerek looked back at the dead lieutenant. The tainted blood ceased pulsing out, and the body was no more than a tainted carcass. Keane was busy tying a knot around the feet of the body with thick rope. The knot was simple. Keane wrapped the rope once around the ankles, one loop through the wrap, and another loop through the previous loop using the tail-end of the rope.

  “That knot looks weak,” Maerek said, squatting next to Keane.

  “It’s intended to. It’s called a highwayman’s hitch. I learned it from the Nomads. It’ll hold for as long as I need it too, and then when I need a quick get away,” Keane paused and pulled the tail-end of the rope, quickly undoing the knot, “it comes out with a quick tug, dropping the cargo, or in our case, the dead body, right where we need to.”

  Maerek turned again to look at the pass, sniffing the air, scrunching his nose and frowning at the wet taste of rot. Thomas picked up the lieutenant’s spear while Aelex undid the officer’s belt and removed the sword and scabbard without inspecting them. Spear, and sword and scabbard were placed into the wagon. Keane was working with the rope again, re-tying the highwayman’s hitch, and then tying one end to the back of the wagon while holding onto the other end. With their minimal gear packed, the travelers quietly continued to the entrance to the pass. The dead lieutenant left a trail of dark, tainted blood on the rough and rocky ground as the traders passed under the curved obelisks.