One Cannot Deny a Blood Oath with a Dragon

by T P Sheehan

  “Let’s move,” Ganister whispered, jumping to his feet. The two of them moved deeper into the woods.

  “What was that?” Magnus asked.

  “Keep moving,” Ganister insisted, still not answering Magnus’s question.

  They traversed half a mile deep to the dark centre of the woodlands and came upon a broad oak tree. Ganister trudged towards it. “Come Magnus,” he motioned. Magnus followed him, treading carefully through the dark to the tree that was easily twenty feet thick at its base.

  Ganister called out in a loud whisper. “Sarah? Sarah, are you there?”

  A shadow appeared from behind the back of the tree. Magnus recognised the short, stout woman immediately. It was Ganister’s wife.

  “Magnus!” Sarah called as loud as she dared, running over to him. Her long, curly blonde hair billowing as she moved. She gave Magnus a quick hug then stepped back, looking at him. She held a small lamp supported by a shoulder strap that rattled as she moved. Lifting it up to his face, she examined him, holding his chin with the other hand and frowning as she turned his head from side to side.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No Ma’am, I am…”

  “Sarah will do,” she interrupted. “I am no Ma’am. I’ve told you a thousand times.” Still frowning, Sarah inspected Magnus from head to toe, looking for any signs of damage.

  “I am not hurt, Sarah.”

  “No?” Sarah continued her examinations.

  A second figure appeared from behind the large tree. He held a bow in one hand, with an arrow drawn at the ready in the other. “Magnus?” he called with a whisper.

  “Lucas!” Magnus recognised his voice. Lucas released the tension in his bow. He walked over to Magnus and the two boys shook hands.

  “It is good to see you well,” Lucas said.

  “And you.”

  Sarah seemed content Magnus was unharmed and walked to Ganister. “Bonstaph? Alavia?”

  Ganister shook his head. “I will go back for them, now that I know Magnus is safe.”

  Magnus looked to Lucas, hoping to get more answers from him. “Lucas, how did you know we were in trouble?”

  Lucas led Magnus to the back of the large tree. “It was Breona. She came to us less than an hour ago, making a good racket at the front door. We found her foaming at the mouth like she had near-killed herself to get to us.”

  Sure enough, Breona was there behind the tree. She waited beside three other horses including Tameror—Ganister’s own black Wardemeer. While the other three were content chewing on the sparse grass that grew between the thirsty surface roots of the oak trees, Breona was trotting around in a state of unrest.

  “Breona!” Magnus called to her, glad to see her. She trotted over to him, her white hide shining even in the sparse light of the woods. She blew through her nostrils and nuzzled into the palms of Magnus’s hands.

  “Yes, Breona raised the alarm,” Ganister continued Lucas’s story. He was checking over his armour, neatly laid out over a large blanket to the side of where the horses grazed. “Thank you for arranging this, son.” Ganister looked at Lucas, smiling. Lucas nodded in return. Ganister removed his grey cloak and place it around Magnus’s shoulders—he was still shivering from the cold. Ganister began to change into his armour. Sarah helped him into his steel chain mail and leather tunic.

  “Ganister fell out the door pulling his boots on,” Sarah said.

  “Thanks to Breona, pushing and shoving me as she was. I was barefoot and half-naked.” He nodded toward Magnus with a grin on his face but Magnus was in no mood for humour. Seeing this, Ganister lost his smile. “I left Lucas and Sarah to prepare my armour and planned to meet them here. Tameror and I followed Breona back through the woods and came across your place ablaze. It could be no accident, that I was sure of,” Ganister explained further. “I sent the horses back to the woods, then came about the house from the west to see what was what. Your mother and father were there, further to the south, surrounded by six or more of those Quagmen.” He shook his head as Sarah pulled his leather tunic over him and tied straps around his back.

  “You saw them! They are alive?” Magnus was relieved and worried all at once.

  “Aye, they were alive. But those wretched Quagmen weren’t alone. They had wyverns with them—black Corville Mountain wyverns. Six as I counted, prowling around like hunger-ravaged dogs. That was the ghastly sound we heard as we made for the woods. What they are doing this far from their desolate home I do not know. It has been a long time since I’ve seen the likes of them but apparently they are in the service of the Quag now… Or vice versa, perhaps. What I want to know is, how did the Quag infiltrate the Realm?”

  Magnus knew how. “The knights were removed from their patrol. All along the southern borders.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Mother saw it herself. And at sunset Xavier ordered knights back into position.” Magnus was far more concerned about his parents. “Could you not have killed the Quagmen and helped my parents?” he asked, frustrated.

  “Hmph,” Ganister exclaimed, checking his sword then sheathing it again in its scabbard before pulling leather gauntlets over his hands.

  “He could have, had he allowed me to go with him,” Lucas interjected. He stood tall and proud next to Magnus with a demeanour suggesting he was ready to take on anything. Lucas had his mother’s curly blonde hair but a tall, leaner build—much like Magnus’s. It was something that always made Magnus curious, considering how heavyset his parents were.

  Ignoring his son, Ganister continued talking as he dressed. “It was my first desire, Magnus, but I could see your parents were distracted by something other than the wretched Quagmen. Your mother was gazing toward the burning homestead. Worry was written all over her face. I knew then you must have been in the house. Low and behold, as I moved back to the north I saw you running into the burning house! I had to get you out.”

  “I went in to be sure my parents weren’t there,” Magnus said.

  “You’re lucky I was the one who saw you.” Ganister put his hands on his hips. “We nearly got away unnoticed, but for the Quagman we killed. I fear the screaming wyvern suggests discovery of the body. They’ll be looking for us, that’s for sure.”

  Magnus nodded. He appreciated Ganister’s honesty, but it did nothing to appease his worries.

  “I will find them Magnus—know that,” Ganister said. Sarah fitted greaves over his shins then bound them tightly about his calves. When she was done, Ganister mounted Tameror and retied his scabbard around his waist. Sarah handed him his shield.

  “Ganister.” Magnus walked up to him. “You said they would be looking for me because I’m Bonstaph’s son. Why?”

  Tameror grew skittish, as all warhorses do at the sniff of battle, and neighed loudly. Ganister patted his great horse’s side with his gloved hand to steady him. He returned his attention to Magnus. “There are a lot of questions unanswered for you, Magnus. In time you will learn what you must. But for now, you are not safe here. Go now with Sarah. She will give you warm clothes and all the provisions you need.”

  Ganister leant over to kiss Sarah and held her arm for a moment. “Farewell my love. I will see you soon enough.”

  “That you will, my husband.”

  Ganister rode to Magnus and reached to him. Magnus held his gloved hand.

  “The night is still young, Magnus. Ride with Breona, for an Astermeer can traverse these lands faster than any other. Head east toward Froughton Forest as fast as you can. Cloak yourself in its darkness and travel nor’eastward along the road of the Outer Rim. You will travel with the Valley of Shadows always to your right, but on no account enter the Valley. At the northern most point of Froughton, travel the Northern Road to the city of Guame. Speak before the Authoritarium. They will afford counsel to the son of Bonstaph—former Knight Commander of Allumbreve. They may disagree on political terms but that amounts to naught during war. If that does not sit well with them, tell them I sent you. Let t
hem know the Quag have invaded our lands. They will mobilise their legions to Realms End.”

  Ganister then took Lucas’s hand. “Be safe my son. Travel with Magnus as far as the Nuyan River but no further, then return home to your mother’s side. Don’t come looking for me, Lucas. I will return to you both soon.” Lucas nodded, although Magnus could see disappointment in his face.

  Ganister waved to his wife. Sarah waved back then covered her mouth, holding back her tears. Tameror charged back through the woods, throwing up clumps of turf with his massive hooves, before disappearing into the darkness, back toward Magnus’s home.

  Sarah and Lucas prepared their horses for the ride back to their homestead north of the woodlands. Magnus stroked Breona’s head.

  “Will she let you ride her?” Lucas asked.

  “I never have before. Not so as I remember,” replied Magnus. “She was sworn to Mother. I’ve not known another to ride her.” He thought of his own horse—Esmder—hoping he was okay and hadn’t suffered at the hands of the Quag or the black wyverns.

  Sarah walked her horse over to Magnus. “You rode with Breona as an infant in your mother’s arms and sat at the front of her saddle as a child. She will remember you upon her back, I am sure.”

  Sarah spoke to Breona. “You know Magnus as you know Alavia. He is as much of the Ice Realm as he is of Fire. He is your kin.” She placed the palms of her hands upon Breona’s forehead, closing her eyes. “Fara un icen du ralma forr Magnus. Alavia shi wuden ralma vua fetrama Breona.” Sarah opened her eyes then looked to Magnus who waited for an explanation for her Icerealmish chant. She smiled at him, “I learnt much from your mother. I spoke the truth of whom you are Magnus—fire and ice. Alavia chose the father of her child wisely. Breona should be at one with you as she is with your mother.” Magnus was not sure how to respond. “Talk to her. She knows you. She’ll hear you,” Sarah urged.

  “I don’t speak much of her tongue.” Magnus felt awkward and even a little embarrassed that he did not know Breona better. Although he never shared his mother’s intimacy with Breona, he knew how special she was. Astermeers were the most coveted of horses, bred by the Rhydermere for their speed, intelligence and loyalty to their sworn riders. They were rare. Outside of the Ice Realm they were even more so, for they could not be bought and were gifted at the discretion of the Rhydermere themselves. The same was true of the Wardemeers—cousins to the Astermeer, they are warhorses bred for battle. Such breeds as these were gifted only to the finest warriors of the realms.

  “Your dialect matters not. Speak with your mind. She will understand you—much as a dragon would.”

  Much as a dragon would… Magnus continued to pat Breona’s forehead along the silver blaze that ran down to her snout upon her otherwise pure white coat. The blood of the ice dragon… People often said Astermeers were bred with dragon blood. “That would imply ice dragons were not extinct…” his mother would counter, invalidating the claim.

  Magnus closed his eyes and tried to relax. He slowed his breathing and in a moment felt emotions that were not his own. Then a voice that was as gentle as his mother’s came to mind as a whisper.

  “Where is Alavia?”

  Magnus responded with his thoughts. “I don’t know. I miss her and I want to help her.”

  In the background Magnus overheard Lucas speaking with Sarah.

  “We need to hurry back home, Mother, we have no time to spare.”

  “We cannot go anywhere until Magnus can ride that horse. He will need her if he is going to travel to Froughton Forest before sunrise.”

  Magnus’s eavesdropping stopped as Breona’s thoughts permeated through his mind again. “Can we find her together?”

  “We need to travel far to find help. Warriors from the South are attacking our lands.”

  “I saw them come… I saw them with Alavia.”

  “And you came to Ganister and Sarah for help. You are brave, Breona. Will you run with me to find help?”

  “I will run with you Magnus, to do what we can to help her.”

  Magnus smiled and opened his eyes, hugging Breona around the neck. “Thank you.”

  SARAH

  Magnus, Sarah and Lucas traversed northward out of the Crescent Woods and across the Bowthwait lands. As they rode their horses, the silence of the night gave Magnus leave to think about his parents. Are they safe? He thought of the viciousness of the Quagman’s attack. It took even Ganister a moment to best the warrior. He shook himself free of his dark thoughts and looked over to Sarah. She was observing him, much as his own mother would.

  “These things weigh heavily on your mind, don’t they, Magnus?” Sarah said with a sympathetic smile. Magnus felt his chest tighten—he was sick with worry.

  Sarah rode to his left and placed a soft hand on his arm. “There is good yet to come from this evening’s wrongs, Magnus, I know it.” Magnus looked to Sarah as if expecting an explanation. The moonlight caught her face as it rose above the woods and Sarah winked. “Call it gypsy’s intuition.” Her smile broadened and her fleshy cheeks lifted her eyes much like a yawning cat. She tucked her long blond hair back revealing the various shaped piercings she had around the rim of her ear, under which was a small tattoo in the shape of a four-sided star. Both these qualities revealed her gypsy past.

  Magnus smiled at Sarah, feeling slightly relieved of his worry. She was good company and had been for as long as Magnus remembered. He considered for a moment what unlikely events may have led Ganister to marry a gypsy, much as his father had met his mother years ago—Marriage to a young woman of the Rhyder clan of the northern Ice Realm was also an unlikely pairing. He could only assume that as knights the two of them travelled far and wide and met many people from each of the four realms.

  “Ganister fell for the charm of the Gypsy, much as your father did for a lady of the North!” Sarah said, interrupting his thoughts and apparently peering into his mind.

  “Mother, leave Magnus’s thoughts to himself,” Lucas remarked.

  “That’s okay, I enjoy the company in my head,” Magnus said. Lucas and Sarah laughed.

  Lucas sidled up next to Magnus and gave Breona a nudge with his knee, and then another. Breona snorted in protest. Magnus looked at Lucas for an explanation.

  “One thing is for sure, Magnus,” Lucas said. “In all of Allumbreve, I would bet you are the only boy outside of the Rhyderlands to sit astride an Astermeer.”

  “You call me a boy, Lucas?” Magnus asked.

  “Aye, I do.”

  “And what of you… all of six months older than me?”

  “What a difference six months makes.” Lucas grinned. “You see that lamp ahead?” He pointed to the north where Magnus could see a single yellow glow. It was a lantern at Lucas’s homestead half a mile away. “In a thousand years a boy couldn’t get to it before me.” With that Lucas spurred his horse into a gallop, taking off as fast as he could and laughing as he went. Magnus smiled to himself. He knew what Lucas was doing—trying to take his mind off troubling thoughts.

  “Not in the mood for a race, Magnus?” Sarah asked, grinning once again.

  “I haven’t decided yet. Either way, I only think it fair to give Lucas a head start.” He was not in the mood at all, but watching Lucas disappear into the night was more that he could bear. He spoke with Breona. “Shall we teach Lucas a lesson, Breona?”

  Breona needed no further encouragement. She reared up before charging forth with explosive speed. Magnus held tight to Breona’s reins, pulling himself forward and down against the oncoming wind. He’d often seen his mother ride Breona at speed, but had never experienced something quite like this for himself. He could hear Sarah’s laughter trailing behind him.

  Two hundred feet out from the light, Lucas had a fifty-foot lead over Magnus, but Breona was gaining rapidly. Lucas steered his steed around the remains of an old horse-cart that sat weathered in the field. Breona did not deviate. She hurdled the cart and landed alongside Lucas, bolting ahead.

 
Breona and Magnus pulled up alongside the lamp with a fifty-foot lead of their own over Lucas, who finally arrived, his horse panting and heaving. “Look at her.” Lucas pointed to Breona. “She’s not so much as raised a sweat.” He shook his head.

  Breona had found a green patch of grass at the foot of the lamp pillar and was chewing on it. Magnus was glad she was no longer so anxious. It made him breathe a little easier too. The thought of Ganister going to help his parents gave him peace of mind—surely there is no one more capable.

  Soon after, Sarah arrived and the three of them walked their horses around the back of the homestead. Lucas took the horses to feed and Magnus followed Sarah into the house.

  The rear entry to the home led to the kitchen. As with his own home, the stone walls of the house were a mixture of locally sourced granite and sandstone from the quarry within the Uydferlands, north of the township of Nuyan. Magnus recalled the many times as a child he and Lucas had travelled there and helped their fathers load the stone onto Ganister’s cart—the cart that now stood decaying in Ganister’s field as a reminder of the hard labour they shared with their two young sons.

  Magnus remembered the first time he arrived at the quarry and met Catanya, then a young girl. She would bring the travellers refreshments and always had a mug of lemon water for Magnus. They would sit together, talking for as long as they could while Magnus sipped his drink as slowly as possible, wishing to stay with her as long as he could before they were both called back to their duties. He looked forward to seeing her each time they ventured to the quarry where the Uydfermen worked the stone.

  Magnus played with the bracelet Catanya placed on his right wrist. Comforted by its presence in her absence, he was glad she had placed enchantments to keep it with him. Even so, Magnus vowed to never take it off.

  “Take a seat here, Magnus,” Sarah said. Magnus woke from his reverie and sat at the square kitchen table. The house was decorated differently to his own home. Where his mother preferred elegance and cleanliness, Sarah was overtly expressive with ornaments, paintings and decorations that covered every surface possible. Most of the furniture she had made and engraved herself with symbols and glyphs of all the realms, each with its own story.