The Royal Dragoneers (Dragoneers Saga)

by Mathias, M. R.

  “If that tale is true, then those men got what they deserved,” Zah said with a touch of defiant anger in her voice. “How would you feel if some strange creatures came and violated your home and tried to kill you?”

  “How would you feel if you was one of them innocent farm folks that fire breathin’ bastard was a' eatin’, miss?” Herald’s expression was a study in indignant righteousness. He spat another wad of dark phlegm. Then he spat his words. “I lost a fist full of friends and a few kin to them scaly fargin wyrms over the years. If you ever knew the truth of things, about how them dragons nearly killed off our first ancestors and ended us, then you’d have a different bit of reasonin’ in your pretty skull.” He huffed away some of his ire and glanced around at the group. “When the survivors of the Dogma first washed up on Gull's Reach, they had to fight the dragons just to get from the sea shore into the thickets. Learned druid or not, you haven’t read all the books there is, miss. There’s a bundle of journals wrote by them survivors. I read some of them back when I was stationed on King’s Island.” Herald’s grizzly expression softened a bit as a fond memory intruded on his anger. “My betrothed was a scribe there. She’d been markin’ copies of old manuscrifts to preserve them.”

  “They are called manuscripts,” Zah snorted. “And I am sure it was hard those first years out on Gull's Reach, but we washed up in their land. We are the ones who … who … um … ” She faltered and mumbled something else but no one heard what it was.

  Everyone was suddenly sitting still in the saddle and holding their breath. Even the horses had seemingly frozen in place. All eyes, including Zahrellion’s, were now staring at the dark, sinuous thing in the sky that had just completely eclipsed the sun as it passed over them.

  It was a dragon, a big old red, and it was looking back and down at them. Curls of dark smoke streaked out of its snout with its slow exhalation, and its scales glittered scarlet and ruby in the afternoon sun. It was an intimidating beast, and it was banking around for a closer look.

  Jenka scanned around in a panic. There wasn’t a tree or a sizable bush in sight. Besides the swiftly churning river, there was absolutely no place for them to run for cover. Solman and Mortin panicked and charged their willing horses away from the group. Master Kember just managed to catch Rikky by the saddle and stopped him from joining them.

  “Stay together!” Linux and Herald both commanded at the same time. Herald added, “Mind your horses now! Don’t let them get away from ya!”

  Jenka pulled on his reigns and his horse backed up close to Master Kember and Rikky. He looked around for his fleeing friends, and his heart dropped to the grassy turf. Solman and Mortin had almost made it over to the river, but Zahrellion was by herself, about halfway between them. A glance at the sky told Jenka that if the dragon wanted to kill her then she didn’t have a chance. Then, to make matters even worse, Zah’s horse reared up and tossed her from the saddle. It instantly rolled itself back to its hooves and tore off in a mad dash, away from the flying death that was now streaking down from the sky.

  Before he could stop himself, Jenka found himself spurring his steed forward in a valiant gallop out to save her.

  Behind him, Master Kember let out a long desperate, “Nooo!” But it was already too late.

  Chapter Five

  Jenka charged his horse towards Zah, which put him directly in the dragon’s path. Over his thundering heart, he heard Master Kember screaming his name and the loud, low hissing the dragon made as it drew in the breath that would probably roast him to ashes.

  In front of him, Zah rolled herself to her feet. She managed to give Jenka an irritated but appreciative snarl, then raised her chin defiantly at the closing wyrm.

  Jenka was almost to her now. Her eyes were sparkling like chips of maroon-colored glass as she waved her hands around in quick, frantic gestures. Pink light seemed to trail from her fingertips, and it began to look as if she were writing in the sky. Jenka chanced a glance back, and his heart nearly stopped cold in his chest. The dragon’s wagon-cart-sized, horned head was right there on them, and those slavering jaws were showing him a mouthful of terrible-looking teeth.

  Jenka actually clenched his eyes shut and scrunched himself down into the saddle in anticipation of the crunching inferno that was about to end him.

  “Jenka! Nooooo!” Master Kember yelled again, but it was too late.

  As the dragon's jaws came snapping down at Jenka, Zah raised her hand and held her palm out, as if that might stop the streaking beast from having her next. With fierce determination, she called out a sharp, commanding word. A thundering blast of sparkling, yellow power pulsed forth from her open palm in an expanding wave that rippled outward through the fabric of the world.

  Jenka felt the heat of the dragon’s foul breath and could hear the horrifying roar that came along with it, but only until his guts were jolted. After that, everything was absolute silence, even as his horse stumbled and fell, throwing him headlong into the rough ground just beside Zah.

  The dragon had pulled up at the very last moment and had managed to avoid the brunt of the druida’s magical blow, but the concussion that pounded through the world, and the raw arcane power of Zah’s spell, caused the creature to instinctually flee north towards the mountains as swiftly as its wings could carry it.

  “By all the gods of devils and men, is it gone?” Master Kember asked, as he and Linux both spurred their shaky horses over to see about Jenka and Zah.

  “It’s not coming back,” Linux said over his shoulder.

  Herald, Rikky and Stick trotted over to where Mortin and Solman should have been. The old King’s Ranger quickly took in the tracks and sign and concluded that both of the fools had let their horses charge right into the river. He figured they had been swept halfway to Demon's Lake by now, if they hadn’t drowned.

  Jenka was on his knees clutching his ears. Beside him, Zah was curled up into a fetal ball crying like a heartbroken little girl. Her tears were not from fear or sorrow, though. The expulsion of so much magic had emptied her, leaving her with none of her normal poise or self-confidence.

  “It was probably a mudge, Zah. It might have had him, and you did what you had to do to save him,” Linux spoke soothingly. “Don’t judge yourself for it.”

  “That’s not why I’m crying, Linux,” she growled through her tears. “After King Blanchard hears of this he’ll never … Oh, never mind. Just leave me alone and go see that I didn’t just scramble what few wits Jenka has.” He nodded, wondering at the strange emotions of women, and went to do as she’d asked.

  “I can’t see King Blanchard ever siding up with something like that,” Herald said as he trotted up. He hadn’t heard Zah talking to Linux, but his statement put a sharp exclamation point on her sorrow. He told them what he had found, and that Stick and Rikky were scouting down the river looking for signs of the other two. He didn’t expect them to find much. He was impressed and a little intimidated by Zah’s show of arcane power, but he felt that his argument with her had been proven completely. Still, when he spoke to her, he did so in a kind, grandfatherly sort of way.

  “You see, miss, I just … ” he started, but she stared fiercely up at him, and her severe look made him bite his tongue.

  “You say that you have seen dozens of men killed by beasts like that one,” She wiped at her tears as she spoke. “Well, all those men died because all of them, all of you people, from the king down to his mighty Rangers, are ignorant!”

  “Now miss … You … Your … thinkin … somethin … ”

  “Naw! Naw! Naw!” she cut over his stammering. “You’re the experienced King’s Ranger, Herald. I’m just a stupid little girl! You’ve fought scores of trolls and a dozen or more wyrm. You have all that valuable experience, but your hate for the dragons and your lack of respect for the trolls has blinded you! You’ve never even come across a true High Dracus. Linux, explain to him what a Mudge is, and see if a bit of light starts to shine in that ranger’s empty head!”
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  Linux looked up from where he was treating Jenka’s bleeding ears and shrugged. He didn’t think that these men, especially Herald, cared what a mudge was, but he was wrong.

  “Tell us, then,” Master Kember’s expression and tone showed that he was actually willing to listen. He was speaking to Zah, though, not Linux. He wanted her to answer the question. “What is a mudge?”

  Zah strode confidently, if a little weakly, over to Herald, who was still on his horse. She took the canteen from the horn of the Ranger’s saddle as if she owned it. After taking a few long sips, she handed it up to him.

  “A mudge is a dragon whose blood is so impure that it has lost its elemental conscience. They remain somewhat intelligent, but they are half-crazed. It’s the black ones mainly, because they inbreed like rabbits, and they don’t school their young very well. But the darker reds and blues can be mudge too, especially when they mate with a black.” Zah seemed to be regaining herself as she went on. “Those dragons are the ones you catch sampling the cattle and venturing close to your settlements. Think about it, when is the last time a King’s Ranger, or anybody else, killed a silver, or sparkling blue? You haven’t had any trouble from, much less even seen, a snow dragon up close in a century, but yet we know they are up there in the icy peaks because every now and again we see them in the sky. Think back on every wyrm you’ve ever encountered and you’ll know it’s true.” She paused a moment, letting all of that sink in, then continued. “What the mudged strains of dragons have lost is still very strong in the purer High Dracus. There are living dragons up in those peaks that were considered old when the Dogma’s survivors washed up on the islands. They have watched us, and they respect all that we have done for ourselves. They are highly intelligent creatures, so much smarter that we are, and they would rather the humans than the trolls and the mudge populate this land.” Zah let out a sigh of relief, feeling that she had finally explained herself well.

  “That’s only because we taste better, lass,” Herald deadpanned, which caused Master Kember to burst into laughter. Linux laughed too, and thus the tension was broken. As much as Zah tried to hold onto her affronted expression, she couldn’t help but break a smile with them.

  Jenka missed the whole exchange. He couldn’t hear a thing. The inside of his ears felt like they were crawling with stinging blood ants, and his eyes wouldn’t stop watering. For a good, long while he was only able to sit up and sip water and look around at the blurry world.

  The first words he actually heard came later, after the sun had set. After they had given up on finding Mortin and Solman, they built a camp around Jenka. They rounded up Jenka's and Zah’s horses, and searched the marshy area for washed up wood, but there were no trees to provide the fuel for a fire. Herald grumbled as they munched on bread and sausages around an eerie blue-green inferno that Linux had spelled to life. The flames burned with a hiss, didn’t flicker very much, and were so hot that everyone sat a good distance away from them. For Jenka, it was a very surreal feeling to be a part of such a scene, especially when you couldn’t hear. He was feeling better and better with each passing hour. His ears had stopped burning, but they felt completely closed. Then all of a sudden, he yawned. His ears popped, and with a flood of relief, he heard Master Kember complaining to Herald.

  “… fargin magic creeps my crotch. It’s unnatural.”

  “Actually it is natural,” Zah corrected softly from the opposite side of the fire.

  “Things you can’t see, powers that that can destroy like what you did today, aren’t natural,” he shot back.

  “What of the wind, then?” Linux asked, looking at them all with open palms. “It can blow the thatch off of a house, but you can’t see it. In the peaks, it can blow ice so hard that it’ll skin your face raw. Is a twister evil? Is it natural?”

  “Bah!” Master Kember gave up his argument and found his bed roll. “I’ll take the last watch,” was all he said as he went. It was obvious that he was upset and worried about the two young men who had been swept down the river.

  “I’m going to give Jenka’s ears a look-see,” Zah told Linux, then went to her saddle pack to rummage for something.

  “Keep watch till well past midnight, boys, then give Master Kember a shake,” Herald rumbled to Stick and Rikky, who were at the far edge of the illuminated, blue area. Then he made to turn in for the night. “If there comes a problem, don’t wake me,” he added with a nod of grudging respect at Zah’s back. “Wake that girl. Let her do with it.”

  Jenka had to bite back a chuckle. He didn’t want anyone to know that he could hear just yet. He needed to think long and hard about everything he was learning about the dragons, the trolls, and the ways of men. It was hard to imagine that, not so long ago, his life’s entire focus had been narrowed down solely to his quest to become a Forester and then a King’s Ranger. Now he wasn’t sure what he wanted, or needed, to do.

  Jenka looked up and smiled, as Zah eased up beside him. Her pale face shone blue in the magical fire's steady light, and the triangle on her forehead glittered faintly with the reflection. When she whispered, “How are you feeling?” he acted like he hadn’t heard her.

  Tenderly, she inspected his ears. Her fingers were soft and tickly on his neck, and he had to wiggle his shoulder when the sensation became too intense. He truly liked her touch. When she softly whispered to him, her warm breath found his skin and stirred his feelings on a whole other level.

  “Thank you, Jenka De Swasso, for that chivalrous attempt to rescue me today. If you could hear me, I doubt I would be so bold with my heart, but the spark you have tendered in me is potent.” Her lips were so close to his temple that she might as well have been kissing him. “I have a feeling that the emotion might someday grow into an inferno and consume me. I know beyond a doubter’s shadow that I’m not the one for you. That is why I have to ignore my feelings. I must keep them to myself. There is too much at stake.” With that, she kissed his forehead softly, like a loving sister might, then went and curled up in her blankets near where Linux was quietly meditating.

  After a short, confusing while, Jenka rose and joined Rikky and Stick, where they were posted at the edge of the weird blue-green fire’s light. “What happened to Solman and Mort?” he asked them quietly. “Where are they?”

  “So you can hear again, then?” Rikky grinned with relief. “You’re a dimbuss, Jenk. You almost got charred up. You’re lucky Zah did that … that … that yellow thing.”

  Jenka feigned a sharp whack at the younger hunter. Rikky ducked playfully. “I asked where Solman and Mort were, not for your thoughts on my foolishness, boy.” Jenka’s imitation of Master Kember was spot-on, but he was paling as he hunkered down between the other two.

  “They rode off into the Strom,” Stick said, with a look at Jenka that, somehow, combined reverence with doubt and concern. “Are you all right? You don’t know how close you came today.” The odd light caused Stick’s eyes to contrast drastically with his dark skin.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Jenka sighed. He knew that Solman was an expert woodsman and would be able to take care of himself if he hadn’t drowned. Mortin he wasn’t so sure about. Either way, he was fading quickly. He felt as if he had to rest now, and his body was demanding that he do just that. He lay back and closed his eyes, and immediately fell asleep on the turf. Rikky covered him with a blanket, and Jenka didn’t wake until nearly dawn when Master Kember started booting him in the side.

  “If you’re drilling with the others, then get your arse a 'moving, Jenk,” the old man said with another nudge of his boot-tip. “If not, then get your arse up and start saddling the horses!” Jenka didn’t move. “Rikky done told me you could hear again, so quit testing me.”

  Jenka groaned and grabbed at his back. In actuality he felt great. Whatever Jade had done to him back up in the foothills was having a lingering effect. All of his wounds, especially his ears, were healing unnaturally fast. He wasn’t a slacker, and he had never tried to get out of doing
his duty before, but he didn’t feel like drilling with the others today. He wasn’t sure if he still wanted to be a King’s Ranger, so he gave Master Kember an apologetic grin and went about readying the horses.

  They made it to Demon's Lake that afternoon. It was a massive natural reservoir surrounded by ancient, dangling willow trees, wild tangle-limbed oaks, and shrub and undergrowth hearty enough to survive under them. Like a wavering natural fortress wall, a thick band of chest-high grass hugged the shoreline elsewhere. Beyond that was nothing but chill, cobalt water reflecting the sinking, copper sun in its wavering ripples. The lake was so vast that it extended all the way into the western horizon.

  While looking for signs of Solman and Mortin, they came across fresh troll tracks. Individual and paired troll tracks were not an uncommon sight around the lake, but these tracks had been left by a gang of trolls numbering almost half a score. They had Herald scratching his head and glancing at Zahrellion. He wasn’t ready to admit it, but he was starting to think that she wasn’t so foolish after all.

  “Must have been a dozen or more of them goblinkin come through here yesterday,” he concluded. “One of them is carrying a staff or a pike.”