by G L Roberts
Bryn glared at Lady Anestar. The jewel on her forehead pulsed with her heartbeat.
“I will tell you why. Because no one before you had the strength to see it through.”
“And if I had not agreed?”
“There was always your daughter or your daughter’s daughter.”
Bryn turned her back to the two women. She looked at the Brae Stone and the other stones displayed beside it. Each clann brought together, not by chance, but by design. A genetic wheel with Brae at the hub. Bryn swallowed hard. She fought back the urge to cry out and drew her anger inward. Her heart beat hard in her chest, and the jewel at her forehead began to fill the room with red light. As she focused her anger and her frustration inward, her body started to glow. A wave of energy pulsed through the room and knocked the two women off their feet. The energy burst through the windows and door of the meeting house, and the power pulsed through the air. Thunder shook the village.
Bryn watched as Arryn rushed in and went to help Lady Arlendyl to her feet. He was followed in by Prince Malcolm who assisted Lady Anestar. The four stood and stared at Bryn. Bryn could see the anguish on her mother’s face, but she did not react. As the other council members entered the room, Bryn focused her thoughts on them. Their presence reminded her of the situation at hand. The Norseman. Rid Alban of this menace first, she thought. There was plenty of time to deal with the Elf-Sisters. Bryn took a step toward her mother.
“When the time is right, we will speak again. For now,” she turned to include Lady Anestar, “for now, you will remain silent.”
Arryn and Malcolm backed away from the women. Arlendyl took a step toward her daughter. “As you wish.”
Lady Anestar bowed her head.
The dragon riders were alone. Each stood in the field and waited while Bryn picked up a bundle from under Meydra’s wing. Meriel had grown in weight in the few short hours since her birth. It would be the last time Bryn would cradle the little dragon in her arms. She smiled at the company as she approached them with the wrapped bundle.
“Meydra and IronHeart have produced an heir.” She opened the bundle. The company drew close. Meriel swished her tail back and forth and nuzzled Bryn’s neck. Bryn giggled. “Her name is Meriel.”
Thalynder approached first. She held her hand open for Meriel to sniff at and smiled as Meriel pushed her nose against the open palm. “When was she born?”
“Last night while you slept,” Bryn replied. “She was conceived to be Meydra’s replacement as High Dragon.” The others drew closer to see the baby dragon. “She will grow quickly and will be flying on her own before the next new moon. For now, she rides with me.”
Kenna stroked Meriel’s back. “Meriel. I feel as if I should know what that means. It has something to do with the sea, does it not?”
“Yes,” Bryn replied. “Glittering Sea. She was born with the scent of the sea in her nose and the sound of the waves as her first lullaby.”
“The name suits her.” Rythale rubbed Meriel’s nose. “I’ve noticed that there are several new dragons among our own. They are riderless.”
Bryn nodded. “They are. It is not a forgone conclusion that all dragons want to bond with humans.” There was a note of bitterness to Bryn’s voice.
“I did not mean to be offensive to the dragons,” Rythale replied. “I am new to riding one myself.”
Bryn sighed. She kissed Meriel’s forehead and handed the baby to Thalynder. Thalynder took the bundle from Bryn and began to talk to the wiggly baby dragon. Bryn walked over to Rythale and placed her hand on Rythale’s shoulder. “I did not mean to cause you concern. These dragons have traveled some distance to be with us, but they are unused to human contact. In time, they will be more approachable and may even accept a rider. Please be careful around them until they have grown accustomed to being with humans.”
“Is it wise to have them with us?” Leus asked. “Should we not as a company decide on these new dragons?”
Bryn stared at Leus. His words hit her hard and she realized she was doing exactly what the Elf-Sisters had done. She was arbitrarily making decisions for the company. The jewel’s color, having not changed from deep red since her meeting with her mother and Lady Anestar, began to soften. The color became a clear transparent blue, reflecting the brilliant sky overhead. Bryn’s shoulders relaxed. This, she thought, is why I have this company around me. To ground me, to remind me that we are all in this together. She patted Rythale’s arm and gave Leus a smile. “True. Very true indeed. We will discuss these new dragons. When we reach Loch Nis this evening, I expect you to remind me of just that. Come my friends, greet the newest member of our company. Let us make for the coast. There is much to do before the Norsemen return.”
The others gathered around Thalynder and each touched the baby dragon. They congratulated Meydra and IronHeart.
There is much to forgive, Bryn thought. I am what became of a dream. I am what has been planned since the first dragon star descended to earth. How can I possibly remain angry because of something of which I had no control?
Turn the anger to determination, Meydra replied.
Bryn chuckled. Yes, oh learned one.
The company left the field, lifting into the sky on the backs of their dragons. Bryn instructed the new captains, Pendelin and Lenyck, to follow on horseback bringing with them additional supplies. The captains would meet up with the company at Bynack More in two days’ time. In the meantime, Bryn and the company would meet with Queen Betony in Northumbria before spending the night at Loch Nis. There, Meriel would be introduced to the rest of the dragons. The company would move to Bynack More to meet with the captains and emissaries of the lesser kingdoms and clanns. It was at Bynack More where the Council of Alban would plan their first move against the Norsemen.
Bryn cradled Meriel against her and listened to the soft sounds of the dragon’s sleep. The little one had grown twofold overnight and was heavy in Bryn’s arms. Soon, the baby dragon would no longer be a baby and she would have to be carried by another dragon, riding high above the ground in the talons of a parent. Another week and Meriel would be testing her own wings and will have grown to be larger than a full grown horse. By the next new moon, the Twayling will be nearly as large as her mother and every bit as capable of ripping a man’s heart from his chest with her sharp talons.
Bryn was still amazed at the gentle way dragons interacted with humans, when in her heart, she was keenly aware how vicious they became when cornered. They were especially fierce when their bonded companion was in danger. That also weighed heavy on Bryn’s mind. What would the dragons do if a fight caused any of the company to be put in harm’s way? Would the dragons move to protect their companions even if asked not to do so? And what choice would they make if it meant choosing between a council member and the Jewel?
With her heart, Bryn had welcomed several new dragons over the past week. They continued to arrive, remaining high above the earth out of sight of the humans, their song heard as wind in the trees or the call of an unseen bird. Bryn felt their presence and was certain of one thing. If she was going to live and watch her loved ones grow old and die, she would still have the dragons. That, she decided, is why Queen Athyl chose to become a dragon. Life as a near immortal, lived among mortals, was too painful to consider for Athyl, first dragon companion. The alternative was, in her mind, the only way she could live and remain sane.
As the company approached the boundaries of Northumbria, Bryn spoke to Meydra. “High Dragon, ask the others to remain here among the rocks and trees while we continue to Queen Betony’s keep. I do not yet wish for the number of dragons to be revealed. We will enter on foot.”
“My Lady, you can ask that of them. You do not need me as mediator.”
“At the moment, I do. I must have a clear head when I speak with Queen Betony. As much as I love hearing the dragon’s call, it is important that I shut it out for a little while.”
“I understand. I will speak with the others, My Lady.”
“Thank you.”
As Meydra spoke with the other dragons, Bryn watched as those without riders rose high into the sky or dropped down into the rocks and forests. For the most part, the dragons did as they were asked without hesitation. Mediter hung back for a few moments. Bryn heard his call to Meydra. He asked to go ahead with the riders. She heard Meydra’s reply and watched Mediter circle once before taking up a position on a high crag. Bryn closed her eyes and found Mediter’s voice in her heart.
Watch the shore, Mediter. Send scouts to the outer rocks and have them keep an eye on the eastern horizon. Have them report to you. You are my eyes at the back of my head. Bryn could feel the young dragon’s courage and self-esteem rise in his heart.
She and Mediter shared the same desire to rush and show the enemy that Alban was not to be dismissed as an island of sheep. But to move too quickly would be unwise. She tried to convey that to the young dragon with her heart.
Meydra understood Bryn’s need to keep the actions of the humans separate from the dragons. A war between humans would soon take place and to bring dragons into the battle would be a dangerous thing. Having never tasted revenge or hate, fear or confusion, the dragon’s first reaction to the events on the battlefield could be too strong for the humans. How Bryn wanted to handle the dragon riders was one thing, how she wanted to handle the dragons was another altogether. Bryn wanted to discourage the Norsemen from invading Alban. Nevertheless, it was not in her nature to annihilate the enemy. She was taking precautions now that could save lives.
But there were voices among the dragons who carried the death of the Reaper on their lips. They were unsure of why the Reaper was killed. Uncertainty bred mistrust, and mistrust was not something Bryn needed to worry about. Bryn placed the dragons in Meydra’s hands. That, Meydra mused, was Bryn’s first challenge—giving up control over something that had the potential to end the battle before it began. Bryn was proving to be stronger than any had imagined. Or hoped. Meydra smiled.
“Will you be long at the keep?” she asked.
“No, just long enough for a small meal, and a quick conversation. I want to be at Loch Nis before the sun sets.”
“There is only the one dragon rider in Northumbria.”
“I have been meaning to ask you about that. How was Lothan chosen?”
“Demrahl was asked to find a human in the north. When Meldred was High Dragon, he gathered all dragons to him and said that the north had long been without a dragon companion. Since there was no one living in the old home of Skerrabrae, and the Picts kept hidden, Northumbria was the realm of choice. Demrahl, who was fond of the North Sea, agreed to leave the inland valleys and seek a companion in Northumbria. Lothan was older than most companions. As you know, we try to find a companion when they are very young and not yet subject to suspicion and prejudice. Not all dragons hear a call from a womb.”
Bryn smiled. “If I understand correctly, no dragon has heard that call, save one.”
“True.” Meydra let out a little purr. Meriel snuggled tighter against Bryn’s neck. “Now there are two of us.”
“Two?” Bryn asked.
“Meriel heard your call from her egg. I told you, she was born for you.”
Bryn clutched the baby dragon closer. “How long will she live?”
“Until you die, or she is killed.”
Bryn remained silent for a moment. “How long will I live?”
“I do not know.” Meydra turned to look back at Bryn. She saw the pain on Bryn’s face and she turned back to gaze down at the widening valley below. “Many things will change long before you are gone,” she said quietly. “I am sorry.”
Bryn looked at the valley below through a mist of tears. One of her tears fell upon Meriel’s neck and clung to one of her scales. The tear hardened into a gem of clear light and twinkled in the midday sun.
Heardred’s grief was keenly felt by all. The pain in his heart, lessened not by confirmation of his son’s death, became a black veil across his eyes. A vision of the creature whose description was burned into his mind by the captain and his men, walked beside him even as he dozed and waited for the sun to rise and the tide to turn. The long night was over and now, as he watched nearly every last able man and woman board the boats, his heart hardened into stone.
His stepsons, Hygid and Heoroth, stood at the prow of a ship watching him. Heardred told them to take no slaves, leave no one alive, and whoever brought back the head of the beast would be his heir. Each vowed he would be the one to slay the beast and return as Jarl. Heardred did not care, nor did he believe either man could defeat a beast such as the one that killed his son. Still, if one should return, it would be the stronger of the two.
Each of the seven longships moved into the main channel of the fjord and headed west toward the open sea. The company of the last ship was nearly aboard, and the helmsman began to prepare the crew. Running up behind the king was a young woman, her shield glinting in the pale light of early morning. She stopped at the king’s side and bowed her head.
Heardred laid his hand on her shoulder. “May Odin protect you and return you to these shores.”
The girl took the king’s hand in hers and pressed her lips to his palm. “I will avenge my brother’s death.”
“Come, Hansa.” The king touched his hand to his daughter’s hair. “Our boat awaits us.”
Heardred boarded the last boat and took up his place at the prow as the boat’s captain. Will any of us return, he wondered. Odin had forsaken him and he did not know why. He vowed to avenge his son’s death, and if by some chance he returned to his homeland, he would dedicate his remaining days to Odin. Reaching down to pick up something from the deck, the king looked to the sea and called to the goddess Rán:
Cast not your net about the sea to trap these boats that sail.
But guide us with your blinding wrath and your fish’s tail.
Wake not the husband Aegir, nor the nine cruel daughters.
And take us to the distant shore across the darkened waters.
The king tossed a ring of white flowers into the water and watched as the wreath first drifted away from the boat before sinking below the seafoam. His gift accepted, the king smiled. He turned to the helmsman and gave the order to loose the sails.
Seven ships sailed away from Götaland toward an island where an unknown beast of the air dwelled among the Picts and the Druids. Two hundred and forty men and women left their homes to avenge the life of one man. Heardred faced the western horizon and prayed silently to Odin that two hundred and forty would be enough.
Queen Betony paced the floor of the grand hall. Of course she wanted to aid Lady Athebryn and her company, but she was unsure of the plan to involve the commoners. In the past, Queen Betony led her army and fought the raiders well outside of the villages. In her mind, Lady Athebryn’s plan put too many lives at risk.
Queen Betony stopped in front of the hearth and turned to face the others. “I agree that the brochs could be used to lure the Norsemen to what they believe to be stores of grain or goods. The idea is simple and straightforward. I am concerned, however, about using the brochs belonging to the villagers or the families on the outlying farms. What is your plan to keep them from becoming casualties of war?”
Arryn shifted on his feet. Queen Betony had more experience with the Norseman than any of the company that stood now in the queen’s hall. Betony’s people and their homes had long been the first attacked with each new raiding party. Moving her people away from the coast was not an option. They were fishers of the seas and to change that would be a hardship she did not wish to inflict upon them. It was easier to rebuild the villages and secret away stores than it was to move an entire realm to another location.
Before Betony, her father had ruled Northumbria. Her lineage went back to the very beginnings of the realm. Betony herself carried a trace of the once regal half-elven clann of Nordini. Over the centuries the elves left Nordini, and the name changed to fit the men who rule
d the realm. Claiming still the lineage of the elves of the Umbriel Forest, the men called the realm Northumbria.
“You have suffered alone long enough,” Arryn said. “With the armies that are now marching to Bynack More and with your own people, we can be an effective deterrent to these murderers. The plan is sound. And yes, there may be casualties.”
Bryn took a step toward the queen. “Your Highness, we are not here to ask you to join us. We are here to ask if we may join you. We know what your people have witnessed. We know what your people have endured. And we know what you have done to make living in the path of destruction bearable. It is your example that we drew from when we put together this plan of action. The courage of your people will be tested, yes. Nevertheless, I believe your realm is ready to stand and fight back. Your people have suffered enough. Let us make this the last year they give away their stores or lose their loved ones and succumb to the beast from over the North Sea.”
Queen Betony looked long at Bryn. She reached out, and Bryn did not move. Betony touched Bryn’s cheek. “So young. The years of your body do not match the years in your eyes. In those eyes, I see the rulers of old staring back at me. I believe you can make a difference.” Queen Betony turned back to the hearth and from the mantel retrieved the Stone of Northumbria. She faced Bryn and held out the Stone. “Lady Athebryn, Northumbria is yours to command.”
Bryn touched the Stone. “Gather your captains. We leave for Bynack More at first light.” Bryn leaned in and kissed Queen Betony’s cheek. “I will not fail you.”
Chapter Ten
Bynack More lay south of Loch Nis and the mouth of Inbhir Nis where the Norsemen chose to mount their invasions. It was here that Bryn gathered the armies and positioned them at the base of the hills. She and her captains, along with their dragons, had command of the top of the hill. The hilltop, a wide mound covered in rocky creags, was advantageous to the dragons and a good place for Bryn’s company. Here, Bryn felt it was safe for Thalynder.