Bargain

by Riley S. Keene

  It was awe.

  A Cleric of Ydia was looking at a disgraced Conscript with an expression approaching reverence.

  Elise was reasonably sure nothing like this had ever happened before. It immediately made her want to explain, to normalize the situation in some way.

  Elise Bresch was no figure of great importance.

  She was no hero.

  She was just a Conscript who was wrapped up in a situation she didn’t quite understand and had no way of removing herself from.

  But the moment passed and Apel rounded the corner, dragging the heavy lump of useless scale armor behind her.

  Elise swallowed hard and focused her attention to Meodryt.

  “Child of Ydia,” the dragon said in greeting. It leaned its massive head down to her height. Its chin nearly touched the ground. Elise could see her image reflected in the monumental eye that was nearly level with her. “I believe I owe you an apology for the behavior of Her Temple. Such cowardliness and disregard will not be tolerated.”

  Elise stood in silence, unsure if she should accept its apology or if that would be rude. Perhaps she should exonerate it of all idiocies of the Temple. Would that have been less rude? It was a dragon, not the mother of the entire Temple. Or were dragons expected to command the Temple above the High Priest? Elise wasn’t sure, but she was positive she should have paid more attention during her lessons.

  When Elise said nothing, Meodryt continued, unperturbed. “When Ydia told the High Priest to expect a visit from me with regards to your actions, it was taken as a threat.” Meodryt snorted, a sound that was equal parts mirth and frustration. The dragon flicked its spiked tail back and forth like an angry housecat. “He has taken every precaution to avoid me. I imagined he would need to leave his chambers before matters escalated to an armed host, but I underestimated the human capacity for fear. He will be dealt with in due time.”

  Something about the statement rubbed Elise the wrong way. Her fears of rudeness forgotten, she frowned at Meodryt. “So why have you come here? And waited until now to do so? Surely you could have appeared at the Temple and told the lesser Priests and Conscripts to stop hunting us down. Apel hadn’t even known you were actually freed! It was a rumor, like you were some giant creature of myth and legend!”

  The dragon was quiet for a moment, and when it spoke again, its tone was subdued and apologetic once more. “Ydia had great faith in Her High Priest. She believed he would see reason, and his authority would not allow for disagreement. She rightfully feared that if I appeared to the lesser Priests, Clerics, and Conscripts, the High Priest would ultimately have the authority to declare me illusory once I was gone—trickery by a wizard trying to deceive the priesthood, and proof that you were up to no good.” The smooth, feminine voice took on a tone of impatience. “I also have much work to do, and no time to play the part of the clergy’s disapproving mother, and appear wherever and whenever it is convenient for these petty human politics. In appearing before the Temple’s host now, I can do just as much to free you from their antagonism, and speak with you about your next task at the same time.”

  “Is it finally time to move on, then?” Ermolt asked from behind Elise, deciding to finally emerge from the house. The sound of his booted feet on the steps alerted Elise to his delay. Of course he would have stopped to put on boots. Elise had spent months scolding him for his desires to walk around barefoot outside, and he’d finally started to take her words to heart. The barbarian stepped up next to Elise and settled his hammer over his shoulder in an effortless display of power. “It’s about time, too. Khule hasn’t been kind to us the last few weeks.”

  “And it will continue to be so,” Meodryt said in a dry tone. “My appearance will scatter support for your arrest for a while, but until I can speak with the High Priest directly, it is only a matter of time before they come for you again. And Ydia has bigger plans for you than being locked up in that prison again. The reward She gives for work done well is more work, not imprisonment.”

  “So where are we going next, then?” Elise asked, actively trying to ignore the discomfort Meodryt’s words provided.

  “It matters not where you go. Every city has a God that rules there, and every God has a dragon they hide. Your goal now is to find them, awaken them, and kill them. Only then will the Age of Mortals be realized.” Meodryt arched its neck up, scanning the horizon as though it could see the whole of the continent over the city around it. From the beast’s size, the idea didn’t seem that far-fetched. “I will tell you when one needs to be dealt with sooner rather than later, but for now, we are well ahead of the other Gods. Thus the closest city is a logical choice.”

  “So Jalova, then?” Athala said in a small voice. Elise turned to look at her friend. The wizard was barely outside the door to their rental home, and positioned carefully to keep Ermolt between her and the dragon.

  “As long as you aren’t going to Marska,” the dragon said with another sound like a draconian chuckle. Elise turned back to Meodryt and the dragon’s lips curled back in a terrifyingly toothy grin. It leaned forward to regard Athala but the wizard yelped and ducked back inside the house, from the sound of things. “We may be ahead of the other Gods, but we can’t afford to be wasting time.”

  “Of course,” Elise said with a firm tone. “Jalova it is, then.” Elise tried to keep her expression neutral, but on the inside she was confused.

  Of course, the dragon was technically correct. Marska was a ruin just across the river from Khule, abandoned for centuries. It would have been the closest city to Khule back then, but neither God nor dragon would be found in that city now. At the same time, Elise had believed Lublis was the closest city to Khule, but if Athala said it was Jalova, she didn’t want to invoke whatever lecture she had saved up to explain the mathematics of travel efficiency and geographical elevation involved in determining which city was closer.

  And while Elise wasn’t completely clear on the division of Gods and cities, she was fairly sure Lublis operated as a type of neutral city where all Gods were worshiped equally.

  “You have time to prepare yourselves for the trip, but I would not delay much.” The dragon straightened up and surveyed the city. “The Temple will not return to harry you today. I cannot say with certainty how long you have before their fear of you outweighs their love for me.”

  With that said, Meodryt turned, its silver-ivory skin rippling as the great beast coiled to leap back into the sky. “Take care, Champions of Ydia.”

  “Wait!” Athala called out. “How can we contact you if we need you?”

  “Yes,” added Ermolt, “It’s clear that there are problems that can keep us from our duties for the better part of a month that you could resolve in an instant. What if we run into another such problem in Jalova?”

  “Don’t worry,” the dragon said with another sound much like a chuckle. “She is having me keep a close eye on you. I will know when you need help, from either Her or myself.” Meodryt hesitated, however. Its hindlimbs uncoiled and it lowered its head in their direction once more. “Although there is one matter I can still assist you with.” One of the massive forelimbs of the creature rose up, the huge clawed digits spinning in an arcane gesture.

  Unlike when Athala cast magic, there were no words, only a rhythmic rumble from deep within the core of the giant being. When the gesture stopped, the dragon’s forelimb flicked forward as if tossing something. A shimmering mirage floated through the air, growing more solid as it traveled.

  Though it had looked to be no larger than a purse when it left the dragon’s forelimb, the immense scale of the creature was all the more obvious as the fully-formed sack landed at Elise’s feet. It was less of a purse and more of a backpack. It hit the ground with the shimmering rattle of coin. The gift of money struck Elise as odd—perhaps even profane—but not unwelcome, given their current financial situation, and the task before them.

  “I see your disgust, Child of Ydia,” Meodryt rumbled as it turned back to leav
e. “Do not mistake my intentions. This is not payment. This is not a reward, nor a salary, nor a stipend. This is funding. Enough to get you safely to Jalova, and allow you to focus on the task at hand instead of the mortal concerns of food and shelter. You have much to do, Heroes of Ydia. Do not squander what small advantage we have.”

  The dragon’s muscles tensed, and the giant creature hurled itself into the air. The street filled with the great gust of wind of Meodryt’s takeoff, leaving the Elise and her friends standing in the street, watching the white shape of the creature vanish against the cloudy morning sky.

  Chapter Eight

  A hollowness wormed its way through Ermolt in the wake of his retreating rage. The dragon was gone, but the Conscripts and Temple Guards didn’t return. He grimaced. Ermolt had been all riled up by the prospect of a brawl he wasn’t sure he could win, and walking back inside without spilling any blood was a real let-down.

  He looked up and down their street. With the dragon now gone, the once empty street was slowly filling with people. Some neighbors were leaning out of their windows and others stood on their doorsteps. People Ermolt didn’t recognize filed in from side streets and alleyways.

  Everyone was staring. Either up into the sky after the dragon, or at the three of them. But everyone’s face held the same mix of confusion, concern, and awe. This was the first dragon seen publicly in generations, and it dropped into the middle of the city to scatter an army of its own clergy, gave money and a quest to three poor folks, and then returned to its master. Ermolt was sure this tale would end up being spun in a way that made Ydia a savior instead of a taskmaster.

  It wasn’t how he would tell the tale.

  There were too many stories of the Gods giving hope to the people in the form of material wealth. People became bitter when they weren’t the recipient of these so-called miracles, and they began to resent the God in question.

  As Ermolt turned his eyes to the sky once more, he wondered if this was how all those tales began. For a long time he had suspected the tales of old—where dragons and Gods helped mankind—had been fabricated entirely. But perhaps they were veiled warnings of what would happen when you allowed a God to involve humans in their schemes.

  Or maybe he was just bitter about the lack of combat.

  “Well,” Ermolt said at last, breaking the silence that plagued the three of them. He picked up the sack of money at his feet and began the arduous task of ushering the girls back inside. “We should go about planning. It seems we have work to do.”

  “I don’t know how I feel about all this,” Elise said as they filed back into their increasingly temporary home. Ermolt closed the door behind them before the whole neighborhood got brave enough to start bombarding them with questions.

  “Seems simple enough to me,” Ermolt said. He set his hammer back against the wall. A roaring pang of regret wormed its way through him. Ermolt hesitated long enough to make sure he was under control. “We’re off to Jalova to slay a dragon. But we have all day to get going, so we should sit and enjoy whatever is left of our nice breakfast.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” Elise said as Ermolt lead her back through the kitchen to the dining area. “Meodryt just told us that it knew trouble was coming for us. But it didn’t warn us ahead of time. Instead of preparing us, or even taking action earlier, it let us get in as deep a trouble as we could and still get out in one piece. And only at that moment did it come down to help us.” She shook her head and settled down to her knees at the low table. “It was toying with us.”

  “How else could it have happened, though?” Athala said, settling down at her own spot at the table. “The dragon explained that it was busy, likely with re-acclimating to the world after generations of being locked in stone.” The wizard shrugged. “If it had taken a more active role in calming the Temple, it might have only succeeded in dividing the clergy between those faithful to the High Priest’s orders and those who were convinced to turn against them by Meodryt. There is historical precedent for such struggles. They often end in violence.”

  Ermolt flinched at the word and stepped into the kitchen to resume preparing the meal.

  “Even if it didn’t want to intervene with the Temple directly, I was fast asleep not three hours ago. Would it have been too much to ask for a quick dream to tell me to be cautious, like those it used to get my help in the first place? Or even just a dream to tell me everything we were just told!”

  Ermolt understood Elise’s frustration. He didn’t like the idea of being used in such a careless way. But the dragon wasn’t used to dealing with mortals, and had likely forgotten they were as fragile in ego as they were of shell.

  Elise and Athala continued to argue, but Ermolt drowned them out while he focused on the meal. He divided out his sauteed vegetables into three plates, careful to separate the one serving without mushrooms from the other two. He had managed to rescue his banana bread as well, and cut a few slices to lay across a fourth plate to cool. It was with great sadness that he cleaned up the eggs from the floor. In the time it would take him to make a fresh batch, the vegetables would be cold, so they would have to do without. He poured out a small amount of the garlic-ginger sauce Athala had helped with over the vegetables.

  “It just doesn’t set a good precedent,” Elise said as Ermolt began to ferry plates over to the table. “It feels like we’re a dragon’s laundry. We were left out to dry while we watched the rain clouds roll in, wondering if we’re going to get pulled off the line before the storm drenches us.”

  “Aren’t you still a follower of Ydia, though?” Ermolt asked as he set Athala and Elise’s plates out, careful to set the plate without mushrooms in front of the Conscript. “Aren’t you morally obligated to follow her will?”

  “Thank you,” she said, looking down at the mushroom-less platter with a ghost of a smile. “And not exactly.” Ermolt returned to the kitchen for the other plates. “My obligation is to serve Her interests, behave according to Her values, and act to further Her goals.”

  “What does that mean in terms of following Her orders, though?” Ermolt returned and set his own plate, and the plate of banana bread on the table, and struggled down to sit at the too-low table. Ermolt hated Khule’s idea of dining. Even in his youth he had never been able to get adjusted to it at Celnaer Hold and over the past few months he had struggled once more. He was just too tall.

  “If She asks me to use all my money to feed the poor, I would do so without hesitation, because it earns Her their gratitude, embodies Her creed of selflessness in the preservation of life, and no doubt works in concert with the actions of other Priests for Her own ends.” Elise had picked up her fork, but hadn’t started eating yet. “But if She asks me to drop my trousers and do a silly dance, I’m only going to do it if I can see how She benefits from it, besides as a test of my entertainment value.”

  “That makes sense,” Ermolt said with a nod before digging into his plate of vegetables. He took care to chew and swallow his bite before speaking, as was common in the southern lands. “But it doesn’t seem applicable here. We’ve got a mission, and we’ve got orders, directly from Ydia, by way of Meodryt. We don’t exactly have any wiggle room to disobey without earning some divine wrath.”

  “Mm,” Elise grunted in acknowledgment as she finally bit into her breakfast. She gulped down the mouthful almost without chewing. The look of elation that momentarily crossed her face was worth the trouble Ermolt had gone through to fetch the vegetables in the first place. “And I guess it’s not like we faced anything worse than we’ve been through already.”

  “Yeah, even if the dragon could have dealt with the attacks before this moment, which we aren’t sure it could have done without causing some politics mess in the church,” Ermolt said as he nodded to Athala, though the wizard was stuffing her face too energetically to notice. “It doesn’t benefit us to question Meodryt’s orders after being pulled out of the storm. We earned the Temple’s ire on our own merit. That the dragon stepp
ed in to save us is kind of a gift of its own.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Elise said with a shrug as she prepared to finally settle in to properly enjoy the sauce-drenched vegetable dish Ermolt had made. “It just feels like a poor sign if this is how the Heroes of Ydia are going to be treated by Her own dragon.”

  Athala sighed happily as she finished her plate of vegetables, and helped herself to a still-warm piece of banana bread. “Thank you so much for cooking for us, Ermolt,” she said with a smile. “It’s been so long since we had fresh vegetables.”

  “Oh, that reminds me,” Elise said with a smirk, her fork halfway between her plate and her mouth. “You fetching these is what brought the Temple down on us. They saw you pick them up from some kid and trailed you here.”

  A flash of guilt struck Ermolt. He thought he’d been so careful, too. But eventually he just shrugged and shoved another bit of vegetables into his mouth. As he chewed, he shrugged. “I think it was worth it.”

  “I’m with Ermolt on that,” Athala said, leaning back after finishing her slice of banana bread. Ermolt beamed at her. “I appreciate the little taste of home before we’re going on a long trip. And now that we know he can cook, he can take over for Elise!”

  “My cooking isn’t that bad,” Elise said with a dignified sniff. Ermolt and Athala shared a glance over her head. The Conscript squirmed. “Oh, Ydia curse you both to the Nether,” she mumbled before bursting into laughter.

  Ermolt joined in as well. The laughter sent his anxiety and bitterness running for the hills, destined to wait for him the next time he prepared for battle but found none. He hoped it would be a long time before he caught up to it.

  Chapter Nine

  Bells later, Elise and Athala had packed up most of their possessions while Ermolt dragged the furniture out onto the street. They would just be too much to transport. He had considered trying to sell it off for some extra funds. Not that they needed the money. But their street was a mess of people and guards in the wake of Meodryt’s visit, so he just let the people rummage through and take what they wanted. He got the sense that some people grabbed things not because they needed it, but because of the dragon’s appearance and their desire to have something that would remind them of the spectacle.