The Last Dragon [Book One]

by LeRoy Clary

  How much can you trust a mage who has lost his powers? Can you believe he will sail to a faraway home? What if he is able to restore his magic in some fashion? All good questions for keeping a man awake.

  I dozed in the early morning, after moving Alexia closer to me. She would snort and warn me of anything unusual. My hand grasped my sword before sleeping, and when I woke, it was still ready for use. My stomach growled in anticipation of more fried meat pies for breakfast.

  Kendra awoke and spoke softly, “Has he been asleep all night?”

  I nodded.

  “Don’t say anything. Just be quiet.”

  Whatever her game was, she didn’t sound like she was teasing or playing. I remained still and so did she, the difference being she had her eyes closed in concentration. We remained like that for so long the memories of the meat pies were slipping away.

  The mage woke with a start. His body stiffened, and his mouth opened in fright, as his face twisted into a mask. The ropes held his wrists and feet, but he rolled to one side, his body strained to break free of the bindings.

  Other than Kendra telling me to stay where I was, I’d have gone to him and made sure they were secure. He moaned. Then he rolled again, ending up face to the sky.

  I heard the soft rustle of wings long before I recognized the sound. A spot of darkness increased until it took the shape of a bird, then later to a dragon. It flew right at us. Kendra remained still, and I knew she was guiding it.

  The nameless mage broke his bindings. He turned to me, a wild expression on his face. He shouted, “You promised.”

  “Did you draw enough essence from the dragon to break the ropes?” Kendra asked.

  “Yes, what’d you expect?”

  I peered at him as I used my magic to retie the ropes. In a soothing, non-threatening tone, I continued, “That was just a question. We still have our deal. I wondered if there was some special process you used.”

  “You’re a mage?”

  I shook my head. He calmed when no further action was taken, but his eyes kept nervously going to the sky where the dragon had flown. It had passed right by us, and as I looked at Kendra again, her intent became clear. The dragon had flown over the road leading from Andover to the seaport of Mercia, and now it flew along the road where we had been. It was looking for enemies on the only road in this part of Dire.

  He reluctantly talked, his eyes still averted. “A mage remained with the dragon at all times. They . . . we drew the power from the dragon and made it available to all.”

  I had suspected the answer, or something similar. “You weakened the dragon until it was barely alive and kept it that way.”

  “I only did it for about ten years and hated it the whole time.”

  The excuse sounded weak. If not for Kendra, he would still be stealing the life’s energy from the creature, only leaving it enough for it to exist. “What happened with my sister?”

  The mage turned to her, then back away. “A few months ago, we detected huge drains on the essence, far more than all the mages drawing on it at the same time. We suspected the dragon was ill at first, then discovered a new entity. Her.”

  “You didn’t know who she was, or where?”

  “And had no way to find out. About a month ago, she drew a vast amount and held it a few minutes, then released it back in the dragon in a burst that almost allowed it to break free of its chains.”

  “Chains?” Kendra spat, “You chained it?”

  “How else could we be sure it didn’t escape? Are you going to kill me, now?”

  A flat silence consisting of three people staring at each other on a cold morning took hold. Finally, she said, “No. We asked for the truth and cannot punish you for that. But also know this. I hate chains and if I’d have known that last night, we never would have made the agreement.”

  The silence continued until she stood and walked to her horse. “Damon. Untie him and catch up with me.”

  She rode away.

  I went to the mage and said as I cut his bindings, “If I was you, I’d do exactly what she told you. I wouldn’t even go into town until mid-day in case she gets delayed.”

  Instead of leaping to his feet in freedom, he remained seated, his eyes downcast. I walked to Alexia and mounted, also riding away without looking back.

  As we entered the outskirts of Andover, there was a perceptual change. People were on edge. The crowds were still there, bolstered by those who fled from Mercia, but now they furtively looked around with darting eyes. Soldiers who were not noticeably on the streets a day earlier were patrolling. A fistfight broke out on the street and Kendra walked her horse around it.

  At the bazaar, we located the same vendor selling his pies. As I paid for six, my curiosity got the better of me. “What’s going on?”

  “Plenty. Two mages were killed yesterday, and another has disappeared. This morning a dragon flew over. Not a wyvern, mind you, a true dragon. Did you see it?”

  “We camped outside of town to the north, but yes.”

  He snorted as he accepted the coins, “All this time, I thought they were myths.”

  “Me too,” I mumbled truthfully, with a wave goodbye.

  Kendra still sat on her horse and held my reins for me. Her lips were pressed tightly together, her eyes hard. My hand held out a pair of the pies, but nothing passed my lips. She turned and rode through the streets as if not seeing the people scramble to get out of her way. The cobblestones were slick, uneven, and hard for the horses to walk on. We rode, ignoring the glares and rude catcalls. The entire city seemed affected by the appearance of the dragon—and none seemed happy about it. The dead and missing mages didn’t help either.

  Leaving the city, we rode into a stiff, bitter wind that suited my foul mood. We again rode knee to knee, moving into single file only when we passed a group of travelers or wagons.

  “Did we do the right thing with that mage?” I asked.

  “What else, besides killing him, could we have done? Besides, despite all he did, the man seemed ashamed and contrite.”

  We rode in silence, with me afraid to ask my next question. It had been bothering me from the first and needed addressing, yet the possible answer scared me. “Will you talk about the Dragon Queen to me?”

  She snapped to attention at the question, then visibly relaxed. “It’s just a name, a story told to scare children.”

  “No, it’s more than that.”

  A boy approaching us kicked a ball in front of him. He saw me watching and picked it up and made motions as if to throw it to me. I raised my hands and the ball arced. Barely touching it, I threw it back. We tossed it between us several times before he laughed and raced away to catch up with his parents.

  Kendra said, “I have existed in your shadows of age, magnetic personality, and magic since my earliest memories. Suddenly, I’m being thrust into a strangeness of power so strong it suppresses those of true mages, it overpowered them and allowed a magical creature to escape. It is sort of like being a servant one day and a queen the next. Can you understand?”

  There are times to talk—and others to remain quiet. This was the later.

  She went on, speaking softly as if not considering her words, but speaking them as they came to mind, “It’s hard. A total shift in perception. In addition, there is the new part of my mind that has awakened. It senses things—and I’m beginning to think magic, or what we call magic, is really just the use of essence.”

  She grew quiet, thinking.

  The breeze in our face carried the tang of salt, and the stink of death that is the edge of the ocean. Ahead, the road wound along the river, which was joined at some point by the raging torrent that guarded Mercia and would eventually find the sea. There was not a tree in sight. The wind probably carried salt and deposited it to kill all but the hardiest of plants, none taller than my knee.

  The road was not crowded with people, but there were dozens to hundreds in sight at any time, some traveling to Andover, others to the great
seaport along with us. They carried their belongings. I assumed most had lived in Mercia and had lost everything, but they didn’t appear as lost and morose as they should.

  I started watching them, their actions and faces. A few waved listlessly, but still, that action was uncharacteristic of people losing their homes. Then, realization struck. They had been as much captives as the dragon. They had been freed when the dragon was. Now they would find new lives and homes. The gates of the city and the river not only kept invaders out, they kept people inside the city.

  Wagon after wagon piled high with goods rolled in both directions, so many the road accommodated them without either direction having to move aside to pass. They were carrying cargo either to the ships or from them to be distributed throughout the kingdom. The road had one side for them, the other for people walking or riding. There was no interaction between them.

  Kendra said, “The dragon dominates my mind. It is not sound, but impressions—and sound is the easiest way to explain. A steady roar, not angry or unkind, is there. Along with the roar is the buzzing of wyverns, sometimes louder and sometimes easing. If they are closer, it is louder, but if they get excited, it raises in pitch. Then there are the blips of sound, or impression, or whatever the correct name is. They are the mages. The use of essence and the distance from me change their identification.”

  “Can you tell where that mage we left this morning is?”

  “He just entered the city.”

  “What’s he doing?” I didn’t like the idea of a mage being behind me.

  “Only his location is revealed.”

  “This morning, you had the dragon fly along this road to look for enemies.”

  “True. What you’re really asking is how did I do that? My answer is, I don’t know. I made pictures in my mind. Se was flying low, along what I imagined the road looked like, and she did it. We didn’t talk. But there is a bond. She likes me. I freed her, and she knows it. Now, she wants to be near me, protect me.”

  “Where is she right now? Can you tell?”

  Kendra pointed her chin. “Over there. Not too far away. She likes to stay close.”

  “What is she doing?”

  “Eating sheep. This is her third one, and she is still hungry. Of course, she was very weak and thin. She needs food to get healthy.”

  “You can tell all that?”

  “And more. She is lonely. There has been nobody to care for her and has only had mages and spirits stealing her health for centuries. No companions of her kind, and none like me.”

  Kendra looked ready to cry, and my questions could wait, but there was a lot more her answers brought up than they resolved. Seagulls circled and cried for a handout. A man tipped his hat and complimented our fine horses. Later, a woman gave Kendra a startled look, then tried to conceal her interest.

  I said with a warm smile, “Nice morning. Was there something you wanted to ask?”

  “Her horse. It is like the one Princess Anna arrived on. Did you also come from Crestfallen?”

  “We did.” I waited, hoping she would reveal more. Instead, she turned her head and walked away quickly. I resisted the impulse to turn and ride after her and ask more.

  Kendra said, “That confirms she made it to either the port or Mercia, so we can assume Lord Kent did, too.”

  My thoughts went to Avery, the servant to the Heir Apparent. However, she was right. In the excitement of all that had happened at the mountain pass with those who we fought from Kondor, the thieves who stole our things, the Blue Lady, and the mages we had killed. The other three from Crestfallen had almost slipped my mind.

  “Kendra, I have a question or request. Whatever, let me say I’m scared of what is ahead waiting for us. You say there are three strong mages and four weaker ones, but that doesn’t help. Avery, Princess Anna, and Lord Kent are also there. And spirits with reason to hate you.”

  “Your question?”

  “How much control do you have over the dragon?”

  She looked at me with a blank expression that told me she didn’t know.

  I said, “There are not too many people on the road ahead of us, and they will move at her approach. The wagons will also move. Have the dragon fly here and land.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  K endra said, “You’re scared of what we will face ahead, so you want the dragon to fly and land on the road ahead as if I can order it to protect us? At my demand? Do you believe the dragon is like some great stray dog that can be trained to sit and roll over on command?”

  “Can you do it?”

  Her anger flared, then diminished almost as fast. “You cannot understand what I feel and how I’m expressing unfamiliar impressions into words to explain when there are no words to properly convey my feelings.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  She pulled her horse to a halt, her face turning a shade of red that usually appeared just before she exploded at one of my shortcomings. To my surprise, she dismounted and held out her reins to me. “You had better take the horses off a distance and tie them well. She’s coming, and the horses will panic.”

  What had I done? The horses would panic, sure. But what about me? I leaped off and ran them a few hundred paces off the road where a thorny bush looked tough enough to hold them. I triple-tied the knots and ran back to the road.

  Kendra stood alone, eyes closed, arms slightly lifted from her sides. Travelers walked wide to either side to move past her. She pointed ahead on the road. People broke and ran. Wagons filled with cargo pulled to the side of the road as the drivers abandoned them.

  I heard the air passing over the wings before turning to look. The dragon flew so low over us, I could have reached up and touched a dangling foot. Well, that was more an impression than reality, but it was low enough to see the claws on each toe.

  The dragon spread her wings and lifted the front of them, so its speed decreased, and it settled on all four feet as light as a butterfly on a daisy. It turned to face us. I wanted to smile, but before I could, it roared. The sound came from a gaping open mouth pointed at me, full of jagged teeth. The rush of wind from the roar brushed our hair back, and the foul stench of rotted meat gagged us.

  It was not a warning or angry roar. It didn’t scare me other than to disgust me with the rank smell. Her actions said the roar was a greeting if we ignored the still-wet sheep’s blood running down her chin and chest, and the red-stained fleece stuck between the teeth.

  For the first time, we got a good look at her, the last dragon. My head reached the top of her legs, no higher. Her pebbled skin was grayish-black, with lighter browns on her underside. Her tail was not long and pointed like the wyvern’s, but stubby. The four massive legs gave her a squat sort of look as if she would be slow to move on the ground.

  Kendra walked forward.

  “Kendra, stop!”

  She ignored me. The dragon watched her, and only her. When Kendra was close enough for the dragon to snap her up for lunch, it bent at the knees and rested its chest on the ground. The dragon lowered her chin and placed it on the road.

  My sister placed a hand on the side of the dragon’s cheek, and to me, it was similar to when the orange had exploded from the Blue Lady’s touch. One touch from my sister and the dragon’s expression changed to one of a stray dog when someone scratches its belly. The dragon adored her.

  Yes, that was the right word that slipped into my mind from an unknown recess. Not love, not affection. Adore. Respect, admire, and worship all were close but lacked a certain something that adore held. A rumble came from deep within the dragon.

  Kendra turned to me. “It’s purring.”

  Until that moment, I’d have sworn that dragons do not purr. Nothing I’d ever heard indicated they might. Maybe others do not. This one did.

  Nothing told me to move closer and try to touch it. Everything in my life warned against that, and only my sister’s presence prevented me from turning and sprinting away. A single glance revealed the r
oad ahead now stood empty. Even the wagons had managed to leave the road and were in the soft sand far to the sides. Not even a seagull flew nearby.

  Our horses had calmed and were no longer rearing and bucking, but their eyes never left the dragon. Kendra kept stroking the dragon’s cheek, despite the blood and gore, and she was speaking softly to it, although I couldn’t hear the words.

  She finally stepped back and waited. The dragon stood and extended its wings and flew with powerful strokes that raised whirlwinds of dust under it. Kendra stood and watched, never moving.

  I fetched the horses and walked them back to her. When we reached about twenty paces from her, both horses balked. No matter what I tried, they would not go closer. Their noses flared, and they bucked nervously.

  Kendra said, “Never mind, I’ll walk for a while.”

  She walked. We followed at a distance. When we crossed a wide stream, she washed. In the distance to either side, there were stunned people who had been on the road and now remained fearful and stayed away. We had the road to ourselves. But they watched. There would be tales told later this day. Tales of the Dragon Queen.

  Kendra finally managed to mount her horse, but it took a while to get it calm enough. We rode again for the port. We didn’t talk. The dragon was again out of sight, but it could return at Kendra’s call. The people were again on the road.

  At mid-day, the tips of the tall masts of sailing ships came into view. We were nearing the port. The horses were now used to the smell of the dragon on Kendra, or maybe it had faded. I waited for her to speak first.

  “Three mages are here,” she said. “They are strong blips, but now there are also tiny flashes that are partially lost in the buzzing of the wyverns. I think they are the spirits.”

  While she spoke, my eyes had been searching the people milling around the decorative stone gate that marked the entrance to the port. Both Lord Kent and Princess Anna waited in the shade the tall gate provided. Both were watching the road as if waiting for us.