The Dragonslayer's Heart

by Resa Nelson

  Skallagrim felt his heart pounding, not knowing what to think or feel. He’d never imagined his parents had such feelings about him and didn’t know how to respond.

  Frandulane’s face reddened and twisted. “I’ll tell Uncle Urial! I’ll tell all the Scaldings!”

  “Go ahead,” Father said. “Your Auntie Thurid—the alchemist you’ve so misaligned—is the one who is friendly with the Southlanders who arrange the dragonslayer training. Thurid is the one who has sway. If you hold her in such disdain, why should she want to do anything for you?”

  “Because I’m the best candidate!” Frandulane protested. “Far better than Skallagrim. He’s weak!”

  Mother’s tone softened. “You don’t see Skallagrim’s strength. He knows how to listen, you don’t. A dragonslayer must know how to listen. Otherwise, a dragon can slip up and kill him.”

  “And a dragonslayer must know how to respect all kinds of people,” Father said. “Because a dragonslayer must travel through all types of countries with all types of people. Many of them will be very different than you and anything you’ve ever known. Skallagrim knows better how to adapt than you. That’s because he knows what it’s like to be different.”

  Skallagrim gaped at Father’s words.

  All this time I thought I wasn’t as good as all the Scaldings because I don’t look like them. But they were doing me a favor. They were teaching me things I need to become a dragonslayer!

  “It isn’t fair!” Frandulane said.

  Mother and Father laughed.

  “If you think life is supposed to be fair,” Father said, “then you’ve got nothing but disappointment ahead of you.”

  Lightning struck so loudly that Skallagrim thought the noise would split his head open. Brilliant light beamed in through every seam of the house that would allow it. Thunder roared with such ferociousness that it made the entire house and the ground beneath it shake within a breath of falling apart.

  “It’s the Northlander gods!” Frandulane cried out after the thunder died. “They’re mad at you for making Skallagrim a dragonslayer instead of me.”

  Skallagrim expected his parents to laugh again, but they didn’t. Instead, their faces strained with worry. They looked up at the ceiling as if the gods would rip off the roof and expose the household to the storm still raging outside.

  “You know little of the Northlander gods,” Mother said in a hushed voice. “They care nothing for dragons or dragonslayers.”

  Skallagrim huddled inside his home with his family until the storm passed. It didn’t bother him that the Northlander gods cared nothing for dragonslayers.

  Knowing that Mother and Father believed Skallagrim had the heart of a dragonslayer and had earned the right to become one gave him hope. Skallagrim desperately needed to prove himself to everyone who said he wasn’t a true Scalding because he didn’t look like one.

  I have to show Frandulane that I’m a real Scalding. I have to prove I’m just as good as him.

  I’ll learn whatever I have to learn to become a dragonslayer. I’ll work harder than anyone else. I’ll become the best dragonslayer that’s ever lived.

  Becoming the dragonslayer of Tower Island would make Skallagrim the most honored and respected Scalding. No Scalding had ever been a dragonslayer before. He would be the first.

  The children of Tower Island would no longer rush to meet every merchant with the hope of hearing stories of dragonslayers.

  Instead, they would claim one as their own kin.

  But even beyond becoming a dragonslayer, Skallagrim decided he would do everything he could think of to become the best Scalding ever.

  * * *

  By dusk, the storm clouds cleared. They left behind an acrid scent that permeated the house.

  Excited about tomorrow’s journey to his new life of becoming a dragonslayer, Skallagrim felt a pang of homesickness at the thought of never seeing the chickens again. They lived short lives, and he wanted to say goodbye to Miss Bitsy. While everyone else in his family went about their end-of-day chores, Skallagrim excused himself.

  When he climbed into the hen house, Skallagrim found most of the chickens already nestled into their nests for the upcoming night. They clucked in alarm when he entered. Only Miss Bitsy stood on the floor and pecked at it.

  “It’s just me, girls,” Skallagrim said. He sat on the edge of a short board nailed in front of the first row of nests, meant to keep them in place. He scooped Miss Bitsy into his arms and buried his face in her feathers.

  She didn’t protest, although she wriggled to find a more comfortable position in his grasp.

  “You’re a good girl, Miss Bitsy,” Skallagrim said against her feathers. “I’m going to miss you most of all. Be good and keep my family fed while I’m gone.”

  She clucked and rested her head against his face.

  “This is where you belong,” Frandulane said.

  Looking up in alarm, Skallagrim saw his older brother standing in the doorway of the hen house. Not knowing what else to say, Skallagrim said, “I like it here.”

  “Then stay. I’ll go to the Southlands. I’ll train to be a dragonslayer.” Frandulane grunted. “I’m the one who should be going, not you.”

  Skallagrim ran his fingers through Miss Bitsy’s feathers. She raised her head and clucked at the intruder.

  “You’re not the one they chose,” Skallagrim said.

  “I’m stronger than you,” Frandulane said. “I’m better than you. All the Scaldings know it. Even the gods know it.” He took a step into the hen house. “And you know it, too.”

  Miss Bitsy raised her wings so quickly that she freed herself from Skallagrim’s grip. She fluttered into the air but then landed on the ground in front of Skallagrim. Clucking louder, she paced back and forth between the boys as if standing guard over Skallagrim.

  “Tell Mother and Father you’re afraid,” Frandulane continued. “Tell them you’re scared of leaving Tower Island. You’re scared of the rest of the world.”

  Frandulane looked like a shadow outlined by the dusk outside, and Skallagrim couldn’t see the expression on his face.

  But the sneer in Frandulane’s voice couldn’t be missed.

  “Tell them,” Frandulane said, “that you’re too afraid of dragons to ever face one.”

  Skallagrim’s voice trembled. “I’m not afraid.”

  The hen house had only one door, and Frandulane blocked it.

  Skallagrim felt trapped.

  “Of course, you’re afraid. That’s who you are. It’s what you are. You can’t help it. You’re not a Scalding. You never have been, and you never will be.” Frandulane paused, and his voice turned cold. “If you don’t say I’m the one who should be a dragonslayer, my life will be ruined. It will be your fault. If you ruin my life, I swear I will spend my days hunting you down so I can ruin yours.”

  Skallagrim wanted to call out for Mother and Father, but his throat constricted into a tight knot. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make a sound.

  Miss Bitsy stood squarely to face Frandulane and squawked at him.

  “If you don’t tell them to send me to become a dragonslayer instead of you,” Frandulane said, “I can begin to destroy you right now. I’ll start by wringing the neck of your favorite chicken. Do you want to just sit there and watch her die?”

  Miss Bitsy squawked again, even louder.

  The other chickens flew out of their nests and batted their wings around Frandulane’s face.

  He cried out in surprise and tried to push them away.

  Miss Bitsy rushed forward and pecked at his ankles.

  As each chicken fluttered to the ground, it joined Miss Bitsy at pecking at the boy.

  Frandulane kicked out at them. “Leave me alone!”

  Skallagrim’s heart welled with gratitude toward the animals. He stood and found his voice. “This is our house! You don’t belong here. Get out!”

  As if in response to Skallagrim’s command, the chickens raised their voice
s and pecked harder at Frandulane.

  Miss Bitsy launched into the air and pecked at his face.

  Frandulane screamed and tumbled to the ground.

  The other chickens climbed on top of the boy, pecking him everywhere.

  “Get out!” Skallagrim shouted.

  With a whimper, Frandulane scrambled toward the door on his hands and knees. He threw himself outside.

  The chickens crowded in front of the door and screeched.

  Miss Bitsy paced so close to Skallagrim that she stepped on his feet.

  Skallagrim scooped her in his arms again and held her close. “You’re the bravest girl I know, Miss Bitsy.” He felt her heart pounding against his hand. “Are you alright?”

  Miss Bitsy let out one final squawk of disapproval at the empty doorway.

  Shaken, Skallagrim sat down again, still holding onto his favorite chicken while the others kept guard at the door.

  “I promise you,” Skallagrim said. “I will learn to become as brave as you, Miss Bitsy. I will become a dragonslayer, and I will never let Frandulane or anyone else scare me again.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The next morning, Father took Skallagrim onto one of the small Scalding ships and sailed to the Northlander shore. Suited for a half dozen people at most, the simple but well-made ship had three planks that served as seats and a little spare space at the front and back for cargo. Long oars were stored under the planks for days with no wind. Today was no such day, and the large red sail billowed. Even with a strong wind from the west, it took the entire day to sail along the southern coast of the Northlands.

  “When you’re a proper dragonslayer,” Father said at the beginning of the journey along the southern coast, “you’ll have to travel these waters between the Northlands and the Midlands. Most often, you’ll sail from Gott, and any ship you board will know how to navigate between those countries. But if you ever have to sail alone or without experienced seamen, understand that the passage is dangerous and could cost your life if you don’t know the tricks of finding your way through it.”

  Startled, Skallagrim stared at the sea before them in fear. “Are we going to die?”

  Father shook his head. “Not today. But to stay alive, you must understand that this sea is rocky and dangerous. We’ll be fine for a while because we can skim close to the shore.” He pointed toward the ocean. “Farther out, it’s like a mountain range of jagged rocks that’s barely below the surface. If you don’t know it’s there, those rocks can rip your ship apart. It gets trickier once we get to the point where the southern shore rounds up to the eastern shore. At that place, there’s only one safe route. I’ll show you how it’s marked by a series of rocky islets and how to sail through them.”

  Father picked up several loose pebbles from the small ship’s deck. He arranged them next to Skallagrim on the seat. “Here is how the islets lie in the water,” Father said. “And here is a verse that will tell you how to recognize the one safe passage you must use to navigate through them.”

  Dragon-shaped reefs guard the West.

  Round rocks atop a grassy knoll mark the seaway.

  Algae-covered reefs will flank your ship.

  Gold-flecked rocks guide you to the left.

  Eastern reefs warn of narrow passage.

  Edges like shards are safe to sail alongside.

  Northern-pointing reef shows the last direction to follow.

  Skallagrim repeated the verse over and over until he had it memorized. Looking up, he saw a sight that startled him. “Look!” Skallagrim shouted. “There are the dragon-shaped reefs that guard the West! And over there—I see the round rocks that mark the seaway.”

  “Good. Now, you tell me which way to go, and I’ll follow your direction.”

  Skallagrim looked at his father in horror. “Me?”

  “You know the verse. All you have to do is follow it.”

  Skallagrim knew his father well enough to determine when the man spoke in jest and when he meant his words. Still, he hesitated.

  “If you’re going to become a dragonslayer,” Father said, “you must find your courage. If you fail to act when action is needed, then you put your life and the lives of others at stake.” Father winked. “You can do this, Skallagrim. I know you can.”

  Father’s words gave him hope.

  Skallagrim repeated the verse out loud. “Head toward the round rocks. That’s where the safe passage begins.” He studied every wave, every reef, and every islet they approached. Once Father asked Skallagrim if he wanted to reconsider a decision, and the boy understood he’d made a miscalculation that he quickly corrected.

  But soon after the ship followed the direction pointed out by the northern reef, Father said, “We’ve made it. The sailing is easy now. Well done, son.”

  Skallagrim swelled with pride. At the same time, the journey had rattled him enough to realize they’d survived true peril. If Father hadn’t corrected the mistake Skallagrim had made, the reefs would have destroyed the ship and they’d be swimming for their lives right now.

  “There.” Father pointed north at the eastern shore. “Do you see where the shore juts out?”

  Skallagrim nodded.

  Father beamed at him. “That’s the port city of Gott. We’ll land there by supper time and find someone who can take you to the Midlands and then on to the Southlands for your training.”

  For a moment, the reality of leaving everything he’d ever known made Skallagrim afraid. Father’s words made him realize that only Father would return to Tower Island. That meant Skallagrim would be truly alone for the first time in his life.

  Skallagrim took in the sight of the sea surrounding them and the gentle rocking of the Northlander ship as it glided through the ocean waves. All he’d ever known was Tower Island. Soon, everything would change.

  As much as the thought terrified him, at the same time Skallagrim felt exhilarated at not knowing what the rest of his life would bring.

  * * *

  Every apprehension Skallagrim entertained melted away as soon as their small ship docked in the harbor of Gott. In addition to large Northlander ships that looked like dragons at rest, peculiar ships with high sides and many sails bobbed in the water alongside them. After Father secured their ship and they climbed onto the boardwalk, Skallagrim looked around in wide-eyed wonder at what appeared to be an endless wooden walkway lined with merchants selling all kinds of goods—and all kinds of people buying them.

  Father squeezed Skallagrim’s shoulder and chuckled. “We’re not on Tower Island anymore.”

  Skallagrim drank in everything he saw as if his soul were parched. Instead of a massive stone-paved courtyard surrounded by houses, several wide dirt roads crisscrossed the port city of Gott. Instead of the stone houses on Tower Island, wooden homes jammed close together lined the dirt streets. Instead of a tiny population of Scaldings, who all dressed in traditional Northlander garb of brightly colored dresses or long shirts and knee-length pants, Gott swarmed with people of different heights and hair color and skin tones. Some men wore long pants of drab colors, while women walking next to them wore simpler dresses. Other men wore animal skins over their clothing. Some women wore dresses so airy and smooth that Skallagrim imagined they must be the kinds of things that fairies would wear if fairies were real.

  Before taking more than a few steps, Skallagrim hooted with joy. “Auntie Thurid! Uncle Claude!” He ran toward the crates displaying daggers and swords and into the welcoming arms of the alchemist standing next to them.

  Skallagrim inhaled deeply. Today Auntie Thurid smelled like fields of wildflowers. A different scent surrounded her every time they’d met on Tower Island, and Skallagrim guessed that was because her skin and clothes absorbed whatever potions she concocted that day. He knew Auntie Thurid and Uncle Claude weren’t blood kin, but the fondness between them and his family felt stronger than anything Skallagrim had ever seen among the Scaldings.

  Auntie Thurid squeezed and then let him go. “You ready
to become a dragonslayer?”

  Overwhelmed with happiness at the thought, all Skallagrim could do was nod and grin.

  Wrapping up his last customer, Uncle Claude accepted a large silver bracelet in payment and slid it onto his upper arm. “We set sail at dawn tomorrow. Of course, Skallagrim is welcome to stay on board with us. You, too, unless you plan to head back to Tower Island tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Skallagrim turned to his father in confusion.

  “I accept that offer,” Father said with a smile. “Is the food good at any of the taverns in town?”

  Skallagrim interrupted. “Aren’t we leaving with them tomorrow?”

  “You are,” Father said. “I’ll be going back to Tower Island.”

  Skallagrim realized he’d assumed his father would travel with him all the way to where the dragonslayers trained. He felt comfort in knowing he’d be safe with Auntie Thurid and Uncle Claude, but he hadn’t anticipated parting with his father so soon. Distressed, he wrung his hands.

  “I’ll be saying goodbye in the morning,” Father said. “But we’ll see each other again.” He knelt, even though that meant he had to look up at Skallagrim. “Chances like these don’t come along often. If you prefer, you can come back home with me, but you’ll be looking at a dull future on Tower Island. I’m sure Frandulane would be willing to take your place.”

  The thought of Frandulane becoming a dragonslayer made Skallagrim’s skin crawl. His brother didn’t have the heart of a dragonslayer—Mother and Father had said so.

  Still kneeling, Father said, “Everything in life has a price. This is the price of beginning an exciting new life. You must be willing to let go of what’s comfortable and familiar. You must be willing to take a chance on something new.”

  Skallagrim considered his father’s words. On one hand, Tower Island was comfortable and familiar because Skallagrim had known nothing else. He looked around once more at all the people who looked nothing like his Scalding clan.