Dragons of Summer Tide (The Dragons of Hwandor)

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Dragons of Summer Tide (The Dragons of Hwandor) Page 31

by Robert Barton


  Prin had crawled down into Jolss’ lap under his cloak and was curled up there leaning against the boy’s stomach. The boy had bundle up in his cloak against the chill of the foggy morning which was making his face and hair feel very wet. He was thankful for the warmth of the little body curled up next to him; strange how something so small could be so warm. He could feel her through the bond so peacefully sleeping and just as she had curled up and right before she drifted off to sleep he had felt a sense of total trust coming from her. It was an odd feeling because Jolss had never been close enough to a person to feel any sort of similar trust. The farmer and his wife had been good to him but they had never tried to be parents to any of the children. And he had had friends among the other children of the orphan farm but not anything like what he should have had with a brother or a sister. This thing with the dragon was different and felt so complete. He took a deep breath of the foggy air and remembered that this sort of damp air had made him cough very badly at one time but now, after bonding, with Prin he was so much healthier and stronger. He knew that his little dragon was not the smartest of the dragons, in fact she was a bit airy but even so she was perfect – a perfect, beautiful little creature. When he closed his eyes and quieted his mind he could feel the pulse of the magic around him and the flood of magic that waited to be grabbed just behind a doorway that was Prin. All that Jolss ever had to do was just reach out with his mind and together he and Prin could command the elements of the world.

  How long had it been since he was able to relax Cyerant thought to himself. Out here on a boat no enemy could step out from behind a tree or suddenly take your little brother on a crowded street. The young noble could feel the tension drifting out of his body and even more importantly draining from his mind. There was just so much responsibility on him since escaping the burning home of his family. First he had a duty to his family to escape and keep their noble house alive. He thought about his family and the faces of his ancestors staring down from the walls of the gallery at him when he was a child. He thought of his mother and father and his two little brothers – three little brothers. He could feel his last remaining living relative sitting there next to him in the fog. He knew that Daralce probably didn’t even realize that his big brother had put another cloak around him because he had been shivering. Cyerant thought of how his little brother depended on him and then how his new friends depended on him and how important it was to take care of them. He thought of the dragonets and how vital it was to protect them but when his mind turned in that direction he could feel through the bond that Corth was watching over the other dragons with much the same sort of feeling. What a marvellous creature he had sitting there in the fog – the only creature that knew exactly how he felt; how responsible he felt. He thought of home and wondered what the people on the family holding must be going through right now. There was so much that Cyerant knew he had to do and so many people to protect; the enormity of it was nearly overwhelming. But he knew that he was going to do his duty by his family, his friends, the dragons and his people.

  This must be what it will feels like to die thought Myalnar. In the ancient texts the elven myths describe how one pays a boatman a single perfect flower to ferry one across a great gulf of forgetting and to be taken naked to the shores of a great forest. All of the races had had similar myths at one time and they all included a payment and ride in a boat across the waters of forgetfulness. For dwarves it was a lake in a cavern and the payment was a work of craft – some thing made during life to be given to the ferryman. Humans had a silver coin given to cross a river. Even the extinct orcs had given a skull to cross a stagnant pool and had to be careful to not fall in before they reached the afterlife. Goblin kind had their raft and roasted meat given in payment to the fat man who poled them across a lake. Funny how the races are so different and yet they have these same details of dying. Yes this must be what death is like and if so, it is nothing to dread since all of the myths tell of a rest… and a return.

  A loud scolding shriek overhead broke the silence of the clearing fog ripping each of the travellers from his or her reverie. They had not noticed as the approaching day had slowly changed the fog from a dark blanket to a white shroud and had started to thin the cloud so that they could see a little beyond the edges of the boat now. Out over the water the fog was starting to be broken and to swirl into wisps as the breeze of the morning started to move over the waters. The sun was now fully in the sky and was burning away the whiteness around them. “Well you can talk now if you’ve a mind too.” Captain Tarian said. “Doubt anyone will be as loud as that damned bird up there on the top of the mast.”

  Shira looked up through the parting mist and could make out a familiar shape in the swirls. “I knew that she would find us, I just knew it.”

  Captain Tarian said. “These are my sons crewing the boat here. They’re twins but easy enough to tell apart. That one watching at the bow is Dalnt and he has the longer hair and that is Cralnar at the rudder aft. I’ve told ‘em that they are apt to see some strange things on this trip and to keep whatever they see to themselves.”

  The fog was quickly burning off now and the autumn morning chill was starting to be warmed out of the air. The entirety of the river boat was visible now and the company could get a good look at it. It was barge like and almost forty feet long and somewhat narrow only a little over ten feet wide. The deck was low and only about two feet above the water at the highest with a low railing around the sides of the deck. There was a small cabin near the front of the boat. A short mast was standing only about fifteen feet above the centre of the deck. There was a horizontal cross spar hanging just below the top of the mast it was only about ten feet long and could only be used to hold a small sail. There was another cross spar hanging about half way down the mast and with a sail gathered along its length, a tall man would have to duck his head to pass under it.

  Veer looked at the short railing and said to the captain. “The rail doesn’t look high enough to keep anyone but a child from falling over.”

  The young crewman near the aft rail snickered as Tarian answered. “It aint for keeping you from falling in. You got a brain for that. We use that railing for leverage on the poles and oars that we have to use to steer and push especially in the shallows.

  “Oh,” responded Veer who was looking back at the young man who had snickered. He could see the young man clearly now in the morning sunlight as it cut through the rapidly clearing fog. He was a bit shorter than Veer and he was thin and wiry like his father, barefooted and heavily tanned his blond hair had been lightened even more by the daily sunlight. He looked like he was perhaps two years older than Veer.

  “It’ll warm up quick here on the river now that the sun is full up,” explained Captain Tarian. “The autumn nights are cold on the river with a regular evening wind from the north but the morning warms quickly from the sun especially as the wind will pick up from the south. Regular as tides in the sea.”

  Veer looked the whole boat over and asked. “This is so big, why do you call it a boat? It looks like this is big enough to be called a ship. The boats back home will only carry one or two people on the rivers and lakes there. Most rivers aren’t even big enough to need a boat. This thing looks like it could go out in the sea.”

  “This thing is a she,” said Captain Tarian. “Her name is Gardenia; named her after a flower that my wife always liked. It’s a boat because of the design. The bottom is nearly flat like a barge so that she doesn’t run aground in the shallows and she will skim over mud more easily. If you put a flat bottomed boat like the Gardenia in the sea she’d roll with the first big wave that hit her. Now a sea going vessel has a keel designed to sit deeper in the water so as to not roll in the waves but if you put a vessel with a sea-goin’ keel in the river it would run aground and when the keel strikes mud it’ll dig right in. As for size, well yes she is a pretty good size for a river boat but the Garee River is the widest river in the world as far as I know, so there are s
ome boats that are bigger and the barges – well barges look like a floating field.”

  Veer nodded and said. “So boats are for rivers and ships are for the sea.”

  “Almost,” said Captain Tarian. “Flat bottomed boats are for rivers and boats with keels are for the sea. Ships are for the sea but are also much larger than the Gardenia.”

  “Alright, I think that I have it now,” said Veer. “So what about that little cabin near the front?” Veer pointed to a small cabin built close to the front of the boat. “It is so short, it can’t be more than four feet tall, you wouldn’t be bale to stand up in it.”

  “You have a lot of questions, said Captain Tarian. “That’s where the crew can sleep and we have a little stove in there to cook or keep warm. It has to be low enough so that we can see over it to guide the boat. But what you don’t see is that it is built into the deck so the floor of the cabin is two feet bellow the deck that we are standing on now. So inside it is nearly six feet tall.”

  “Well, we can’t all sleep in there, said Veer.”

  “No we can’t,” said captain Tarian. “But we are going to pull out a few benches for sitting on and some poles and canopy made of the same cloth as the sails. Actually they are spare sails and we use them as canopies when we take passengers on day trips down river. If you look at the deck you’ll see some hatches into the space between the deck and the hull. It’s only about two feet of crawl space but we store everything we need down there.”

  “Day trip, where do you take people for a day trip?” Asked Veer.

  “There are other cities and towns on the river.” Captain Tarian answered.

  While Veer and Tarian had been talking, the mist had cleared from the centre of the river and both banks had become visible but Veer had not noticed. Shira called out to Veer. “Veer, look,” she said spreading her arms as he glanced at her. The young man looked out over the water of the river from one bank to the other and was confronted with an enormous amount of moving water; at least a hundred and half again paces wide and steadily flowing south. Veer just stood there silently in awe.

  Captain Tarian noticed that all of the travellers were standing amazed at the enormity of the river and he said. “I told you, the widest river in the world – and the deepest too; it’s more than a hundred feet deep through here in the channel. You Northerners never see anything like this back up there where you come from. But think about it all of those little rivers up north keep flowing together and getting bigger as they come south. But this – this is where they all end up. Wait until we get down just above Verat where it is twice this wide just above the split where the East Garee splits to go around the City.”

  “By all that is holy,” Veer said. “Does it just keep getting wider?”

  “Pretty much does,” said the young man at the aft railing holding the rudder oar.

  Except about two hours down river when we hit the narrows. All this water gets squeezed down to almost half this wide for a little while. The river swells up a bit higher and runs a lot faster for a while then it just keeps getting wider and wider.”

  Cyerant turned to the young man. “Cralnar isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” the young man answered. He then made as if to speak but was cut off.

  “Uncle,” called a voice from near the front of the boat. The companions turned to see a boy standing in the doorway of the little cabin. “Uncle?”

  “It’s alright Devron, we’re here.” Captain Tarian called out to the boy. “You stay there in the cabin and practice with your harp.”

  The Captain turned to the travellers and spoke. “My nephew, you see. He travels with us. His mother died of a fever when he was six summers old, that was five summers ago. The same fever took his sight and left him with a weak heart. My sister had already lost her husband the year before and so the boy lives with us now.”

  “Are you not afraid that a blind child will wander too close to the edge and fall into the water?” Cyerant asked.

  “Not at all,” said Tarian. “His ears are good and he can hear where the edge of the deck is and where the water begins. Besides with his bare feet he can feel which timber in the deck he is standing on. He knows every one of them by feel. He can walk around here on deck as though he has good eyes.”

  The sound of a harp floated out across the deck coming from inside the cabin. Myalnar spoke. “So he plays harp. I did not know that any of your people played the instrument.”

  “I wanted him to have a profession,” said Tarian. “So I apprenticed him to an old harper in Deelt. Every winter he would study with the harper, but the harper died of old age just a few sevendays ago. So I guess that he won’t be learning any more harping.”

  Myalnar pulled back his hood to better listen to the notes of the music. There was a startled intake of breath from the stern of the boat where the young man held the oar used as a rudder. “I think that I recognize the tune.” The older elf turned in the direction of one of his younger companions. “Talyat, do you recognize that tune?”

  The younger elf pushed back the hood of his cloak and leaned toward the sound. “Yes that is one of the old tunes; with some variation but one of the old dances. It is called Brookside Promenade.” The younger elf looked confused. “Humans should not know that tune.”

  “Why not?” Asked Pelinar. “If it is an old enough tune then humans might know it also.”

  Talyat glanced toward Pelinar who immediately turned and walked to the aft railing to look out over the river behind the boat. It was clear to everyone that there was some tension between the two younger elves. The young man at the rudder oar stood staring at the elf that was now standing so close to him.

  At that moment there was the sound of a splash and a yell from the other young sailor at the front of the boat. “That colt just jumped into the water.” The young man called out as he pointed toward a now empty spot near the rail on the side of the boat where Corth had stood only moments before. Then he looked as all of the other animals also jumped over the rail and into the water and dove beneath the surface.

  “Dalnt,” called Captain Tarian. “I told you and Cralnar that you would see some strange things on this trip. Those animals are not what they look to be. Calm down and start pulling some benches out from below decks so people have somewhere to sit.

  The young man reluctantly did has his father had instructed and walked to a narrow hatch in the deck and pulled it up and open. The hatch was narrow; not much wider than the young man but it was as long as Dalnt was tall. The young sailor laid himself on the deck and reached into he hole and started to pull at something.

  Veer walked over to join the young man and said. “Let me help you.” Soon Veer and the sailor were pulling benches out of the darkness and placing them on deck.

  “There is a boat,” called Palinar. Everyone turned to see the young elf pointing back behind them into the distance. “Coming quickly.”

  The Captain squinted and peered back upriver but he, like the other humans, could see nothing yet. “I’ll have to trust your eyes elf, I can’t see anything yet. But the river will have a few boats on it today, lots of people work the river moving things and fishing and whatnot. What does it look like?”

  Pelinar answered. “Smaller; narrower and with oars and men rowing.”

  “That’ll be a river runner,” said Tarian. “Fast boats, used to move small things or messages and people. Any number of them will pass us today, nothing to be concerned about.”

  There was a loud shriek from above as Green Eyes leaped from the top of the mast and dove toward he surface of the water. As the small dragon reached the water she skimmed along the surface and reached into the water with her taloned feet and pulled out a fish which she carried back up to the top of the mast and began to eat. The sailors all got a clear look at her and for a few moments could see that she wasn’t really a bird. The Capatin looked from one son to the other giving each one a warning glare to remain silent.

  Suddenly the other dragons lea
ped from the water and landed on the deck. And since horses and dogs do not generally dive into the water and catch fish all of the beasts could be seen clearly for what they were – dragons. Corth was now the size of a small horse and he had caught a very large fish. Drace was now the size of a small pony and was very muscular with armour plates and horns. Cyool was still the size of a hunting dog. Prin was the same size as Green Eyes above on the mast; both the size of ravens. There were two brownish coloured non-bonded dragonets still only the size of puppies that were only a few months old. As the dragons all went about eating breakfast of fish they shimmered as the light glinted off of their scaly skin. They really were quit beautiful creatures.

  The young sailor at the aft was so stunned that he let go of the ruder oar which started to hang from the railing. Cyerant noticing this walked over to the young man and took hold of the oar himself and began to quietly speak to the shocked sailor. Veer began to speak to the other young sailor who was also in shock.

  Captain Tarian looked at Myalnar and quietly said. “Even knowing what they are doesn’t prepare someone for seeing this.”

  “No it does not Captain; it does not. They are marvellous creatures.”

  Soon the meal was over and the dragons had once again returned to having the appearance of horse, pony, dog, puppies and birds. The young sailors were now calmed from their state of shock and were slowly going back to their tasks. Captain Tarian, pulled open a small hatch, reached into the darkness and pulled out a bucket tied to a rope and a broom. He held the bucket out toward Veer and motioned toward the now messy area of the deck where the dragons had feasted. Veer nodded and took the bucket and began to use it to splash river water onto the deck and the broom to sweep it clean.

  Through this entire time the harp music could be heard coming from inside the cabin. Myalnar noticed that Talyat was attentively listening to the music. “Captain, Talyat here is a harper of our people and we have noticed that some of the tunes that your nephew, Devron, is playing are familiar to us. Would it be alright is Talyat spoke to the young man?”

 

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