by Sarah Hite
“Hmm,” After pausing he added. “I will have to punish her anyway. The other females will allow nothing else.”
“Yes, they will not let this go, and many will punish her on their own. However, if I may, make her punishment light; I believe she has already suffered more than they have.”
“Yes, that makes sense.” He paused and looked toward the cave mouth. “Where is she?”
“Just inside. She is not well, Your Majesty. She collapsed when she saw the devastation and has not risen since.”
They found Moon just where she had fallen. Her eyes still glazed and unfocused, Kei- ata Lorbrein sat with her now. He looked at them, concern visible in his eyes.
“She won’t move, she won’t speak, she doesn’t even blink. I’ve never seen a reaction like this.” There was a note a fear in the shaman’s voice.
Elder looked her over. “The shattered eggs of other dragons would not cause this.”
The King nuzzled her with his nose and received no reaction. “Let me know when she comes out of it; I want to speak with her.” He was concerned, all his anger gone. He saw how thin she was and knew Elder was right. She would have died had she been there.
He turned back to Elder, who drew him a little ways from her, to discuss the hunters’ punishment. The shaman also left her side and went to a small alcove at the other end of the cavern, where he resumed cleaning up the shell fragments. They were unaware that Moon was slowly regaining awareness. She began to hear bits and pieces of her brother’s conversation- just enough to interpret it incorrectly.
The shaman called their attention to another cavern, and they left her in private. They found Kei-ata holding a small brown and pale green modeled egg, smaller than any other that had been in the nesting cave.
“A Forest dragon’s egg? Where did you find that?” the king asked.
“It was buried at the back of the cave.”
Elder examined the egg. “It’s not quite the same. It has the modeling and coloration of the Forest dragons, but… see these specks? This distinctive to our race.”
The King looked at him. “What are you saying, this egg is a cross? Whose?”
Kei-ata Lorbrein looked at the egg. “This egg is still soft,” he mused. Then Kei-ata paused, thinking. He had known all the females who had nested that season and knew it could not be any of them. This egg could not be more than a week old, and the females he knew of had nested weeks ago. He slowly came to a conclusion: Moon had acted strangely the months before being assigned to her position. He had often wondered about it but had ruled it out, because she did not yet have a mate. It seems that he had been wrong on both accounts. “I believe only one dragon who could be the mother.” He turned back to Elder and the King, and then looked back toward the cave front.
Even Elder looked surprised. “If it is hers, it would explain her reaction.” Knowing that she had left not only the nests of other dragons, but hers as well, and knowing that hers had been among those destroyed would have broken any clutch guard.
The King looked back toward where his sister lay.
“But she’s so young.” Kei-ata Lorbrein carried the egg as they returned to the front, with the intention of asking her. If it was hers, it might help bring her out of her trance. But when they arrived at the entrance they found the deer uneaten, and no trace of Saydene.
Pycan and the Dragon Guard
She wore a simple green cotton dress as she walked into the market square, attracted by the ruckus the traders made setting up their booths and calling out their wares. It was early fall and still warm, perfect weather for the traders. A steady breeze blew the scent of freshly baked goods, new leather saddles and tack, and the other odors of the early harvest trading season throughout the village. She pulled her dark brown hair out of her face and, binding it with a thin ribbon, she made her way toward the center of the square. She stopped next to a booth selling fresh pastries and breads; she bought two small fruit-filled turnovers and continued on her way. As she turned to leave, she passed a young man who was speaking to the leather smith. He held a pair of reins with a broken buckle. Something about him gave her an uneasy feeling, but she ignored it and walked away. On the other side of the square, a thin girl with black hair walked into the market, on her way to a booth selling handmade jewelry. An elderly woman greeted her behind the booth as she reached it. “Mariah, I wasn’t expecting to see you today. Do your parents know you’re here?”
“I’ve told you a hundred times to call me Stone; everyone else does,” Mariah answered. “Mother needed some herbs and sent me to fetch them. I thought, since I was passing this way, I might see how things are doing.”
The old woman chuckled, “You know, I think you have more of your father in you than most think. You just pretend to be timid, but you go after what you want.”
“Shh! No one’s supposed to know that,” the girl retorted.
“Know what?” Stone whirled around and almost knocked her friend down. Seeing the taller, muscular girl, she gave a small laugh, “Oh, I was giving Miella a hard time.”
“Were you now?” the other girl looked at her suspiciously for a moment before handing her a small pastry and changed the subject. “Sell anything?”
Stone turned back to Miella, ignoring her friend; the woman was watching them with gleaming eyes. She laughed, “To answer your question, Ania, she did. I was doubtful at first, but it seems the traders have come right on time. Many of them were interested in your work. One of them even wanted to give you a job.” She handed Stone a package, which she placed next to her mother’s herbs. Miella was about to say something else when she was cut off by a disturbance farther into the village.
Ania decided it would not take long to find the source of the commotion. They could hear shouts and screams from down the street, and many of the shopkeepers were closing down their booths and locking their doors.
Miella looked at the girls, worry lining her voice, “You two had better head for home. I don’t like the sound of that.” She began closing up as well, while the girls continued looking down the street.
“Don’t even think about it, Ania,” Stone said, giving her slightly older friend a knowing look. “Don’t think about what?” Ania retorted.
“I know what you’re about to do.”
“And what might that be?”
“You’re going to see what’s going on. You know what Father will say.”
“Oh, you worry too much. He’ll want to know what’s going on, same as us.” She turned and walked toward the noise, “and it’s not like he’s here to see for himself right now anyway.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Stone paused, then seeing that her friend had not waited for her, she ran to catch up, calling, “Ania! Wait!”
The two girls joined several other villagers by the village barn. The villagers were indeed upset, and when they climbed up on the stable yard fence, they found the duke’s scribe, Noben, and several of Lord Mobren’s knights at the barn’s main entrance. Several knights surrounded two large draft horses pulling a wagon while others sat on horseback.
Noben, a thin man with white hair and a sunken expression, declared, belligerently and insolently, “The Duke has declared we find a particular item, and if anyone thinks about trying to see it, they shall be arrested and sent to Cryome for punishment.” After a moment of silence, to make sure the villagers understood, he continued somewhat lamely, “Your barn is being requisitioned for our needs. We will give it back when we leave.”
“What do you have there anyway? If we knew, we might have no interest in it,” a villager said from the back of the crowd.
Noben laughed, “If you knew what we have, you’d fear it. Now, be gone!”
Noben and his men began to unload the wagon and horses, placing their supplies in the barn. One of the men picked up a small create about a foot and a half long and about a foot tall, when the lid came off, causing him to drop the create. He replaced the lid and made sure it was fastened before he picked it
up again. In the few seconds that the contents were exposed, the girls were able to identify a round, white, shiny object about a foot long.
The girls looked at each other, not believing what they had just seen. It could not be possible, could it? Ania nudged her friend and the girls jumped down from the fence. They ducked behind a shop and quickly discussed the possibility. “It’s not possible,” Stone merely said.
“I know, but if it is, we have to do something.” Ania looked around for anyone she knew could help. “Neither one of us have ever seen a dragon egg, but that sure looked like one.”
The younger girl nodded. “I doubt anything else in Altera can produce an egg that size. Although, I thought dragon eggs were bigger than that.”
“The larger breeds maybe, but the smaller ones? You’re thinking of Mountain dragons and Fire and Ice, but there are Desert and Forest dragons, too. One of those could easily have foot long eggs.”
“So, what do we do?”
“We tell your father.”
“How? Father and the boys are down in Crisen right now, and we don’t expect them back till the end of the week.”
“Then we tell Martus.” The girls raced off to find him.
They found the thirty-four-year-old man on his way to the market. They stopped him and quickly told him what they had seen. He sent them to a one-story house near the edge of the village where he and several other men soon joined them. After they were all seated in the living room, he asked the girls to repeat what they had told him. “I’m sure it’s an egg, but it’s not like one I’ve ever heard of before; it was white, almost silver… like it was covered in ice,” Ania added.
Martus thought for a moment. “Could be an Ice dragon’s egg?”
“I don’t see how. Ice and Fire dragons are the largest breeds. Their eggs would be much bigger. This one has to be a Desert or Forest dragon, but the coloration isn’t right.”
“Either way, we’ll have to keep an eye on it. When Silvrin returns, we’ll let him know.” As the group was about to leave, he added, “If it is an egg, we’ll need to get it to safety as soon as possible. No good can come from the Duke having a dragon egg.”
Late evening, several days later, the girls were in the kitchen of a two-story log home on the other side of town helping Stone’s mother, Madia, mix dough for biscuits. As they put the first batch in to bake, the front door opened and two men entered. The younger of the two, a lanky young man with shaggy black hair, dropped his pack on the floor next to a chair and sat down wearily. A middle-aged man also set his pack down and came into the kitchen. “Biscuits smell good,” he said in greeting.
“Father!” Stone jumped from her chair and ran to hug him. Ania watched from her seat but did not say anything.
Madia returned from the cellar and, wiping her hands on her apron, she kissed her husband. “How was the trip?” she asked.
“Long… and tiring,” he answered and took the bowl of stew Stone handed him. He watched as she took another and left the room. She returned with the scruffy young man, who tiredly sat down at the table with his bowl. Stone began to fix another bowl, but looked around, confused. “Father, where’s Lukair?”
He swallowed a mouthful of stew before answering. “He stopped at Laris and Bernen’s shop to drop off the harness. The buckle broke, and the leather has split.” Lar- is and Bernen were brothers and ran the smithy. Laris was the village blacksmith, and Bernen worked leather. Since the two crafts often went together, they had combined their shops.
Angry shouts and cries halted their conversation. They looked outside and were surprised to see that the sun had completely set. Soldiers marched by the house. Women scurried home; one screamed as one of the men chased her. She sought safety with her husband, who blocked the soldier’s path. A knock on the door interrupted their observations, and a well-known voice was heard through the wood. “Father? Mother? Hey, someone open the door!”
“It’s Lukair. Hurry, let him in!” Madia cried. Ania opened the door and then took an armload of wood from the boy, who was also carrying a large box, and wore a wood-framed pack on his back. Lukair set the box down on the floor as Stone closed the door behind him. Once his hands were no longer full, he took off the pack and stretched. Then he looked at his parents and said, “I think we have a problem.”
“We saw the soldiers on our way through town,” his brother replied.
“Yes, but did you talk to anyone?” the boy asked. When neither of the men responded, he continued. “Oden was at the smithy. He said that the barn has been requisitioned by the Duke, and no one really knows why.” He looked up at his father and added, “Oden said that Kaimen and one of the soldiers got into a fight. Apparently, they’d been in the tavern all afternoon, drinking.”
“That’s all this village needs, a bunch a drunk soldiers,” Silvrin said, shaking his head. “Who knows what kind of trouble they’re causing,” Madia mused.
“There’s more. Martus wants to see you as soon as possible, but Oden wouldn’t tell me why.” The girls looked at each other, and Stone turned to her father after handing the bowl of stew to the seven- teen-year-old, sandy-haired boy. “We know why.” The men looked at her and her father gave her a small smile. “Of course you do.”
She looked to Ania to explain. “They came a few days ago. We saw what they had with them.” She told them what she and Stone had seen, heard, and thought. She described the reactions of the people and the harsh expressions of the soldiers. She also gave them a depiction of an argument between Noben and Oden after the barn’s owner discovered Noben had called for reinforcements, and then Noben had threatened to burn down the barn. If they lost the barn, the village would be in dire straits during the winter, and that worried her.
Madia looked from the girls to her husband. “Silvrin, what are you going to do?” He was Pycan’s Dragon Guard Captain and, as such, it was his responsibility to defend the egg.
Silvrin took her chin in his hand. “I’ll speak with them tomorrow, but until I find out what exactly is going on, I don’t want any of you going far from home. Am I understood?” After they acknowledged his request, he turned to Ania. “I’ll let your grandfather know that you’ll be spending the night with us.”
The next morning Ania was up before dawn. She had not slept well and was still tired, she had been too worried to sleep. More soldiers? she thought. Why would Noben call for more soldiers? She got dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen, where the early morning light was aided by a lantern hanging from the ceiling. She found Lukair already awake and sitting at the table. He passed her the platter of biscuits they had made the day before and a small jar of boysenberry jam. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”
“No,” she answered. “Is everyone else still asleep?”
“Mother and Stone are, Father and Lorex left early to investigate,” he replied.
“Oh, so what kept you up?” she asked.
“The soldiers. You?”
“The same. Can you believe there might be more?”
Lukair snorted, “I can’t think of any reason for Noben to call for reinforcements.”
Ania let silence fall between them. After a moment an idea occurred to her that made her shiver and jumped up. “Where’d your father go?” she asked sharply.
“What?” Lukair asked confused. Ania’s sudden exclamation had brought Madia downstairs. “What’s going on down here?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he stammered. Stone emerged at the top of the steps, bleary-eyed and still in her sleeping robe. “What have you done now, Lukair?” she blamed.
“I didn’t do anything!” he retorted. Stone came downstairs as Madia asked, “Ania? What is it?” Madia had been like a mother to Ania since hers had died more than ten years ago.
Ania looked at Madia, her face unreadable, and said in a small voice, “I know why they sent for more soldiers.” Madia knew the girl and she knew when something was wrong. If she thought she knew why more soldiers were on their way, then she pr
obably did, but what concerned her more was not what she said, but the look in her eyes, as they revealed a note of fear unusual for the seven- teen-year-old. As the day wore on, Ania sunk into a silent, black mood and stared out the window toward the barn.
When Silvrin returned, there were several guardsmen with him. “Oh, thank heavens you’re back!” Madia exclaimed. “We might have a bigger problem. Ania thinks she knows why there are more soldiers coming, but she won’t talk to me. She won’t even look at me.” She was clearly distressed. He nodded and pulled her close.
“Where is she?” Madia turned to see Nealson, Ania’s grandfather. “This way,” she returned. She led them to a back room where the kids were occupying themselves. Stone was making a necklace for a villager’s upcoming wedding, Lukair was reading a book on dragon breeds, and Ania sat staring out the same window she had all day. Her face was blank, and her eyes were dark and unreadable. She sat on the couch, her body stiff.
“Ania?” Nealson asked gently. She did not answer him, or turn to look at him. He put a hand on her shoulder and shook her slightly, but she still did not respond. He looked back at Silvrin and Madia. The other teenagers were now watching as well. “How long has she been like this?”
“Most of the day. I have tried everything to—”
Before she could finish, Ania suddenly shook her head and relaxed. She looked confused for a moment, but it vanished quickly. Nealson sat down next to her and she looked at him. “Grandfather?”
An odd note in her voice caught his attention, but he focused on her face and brought up the earlier topic. “You think you know why they have sent for more soldiers? Does it have anything to do with the egg?” Over the last couple of days, they had discovered that the girls had been correct. Oden and his son had gone to clean the barn two days after the soldiers’ arrival and had seen it for themselves. They had arranged with Noben to have someone clean the barn every three days.