by Sam Ferguson
Ceadryl took him to a valley of tall grass near a river. A herd of deer laid basking in the sun and grazing on the tender grasses. Ceadryl formed the connection with Gorliad and showed him hundreds of hunting memories. Then, he bid him to try his luck.
“Hunt well, eat well,” Ceadryl whispered.
Gorliad crept through the grass, keeping an eye on the deer. He was focusing on a doe that stood away from the others, closer to him than to them, and with her back toward the river. His stomach growled as he thought of eating her. The doe stopped grazing and raised her head. Her ears twisted upon her head this way and that, searching for additional sounds. Other deer in the heard likewise raised their heads. Gorliad froze, holding his breath and waiting. The doe put her head down to nibble the grasses again.
Gorliad pounced. He flew through the air in a graceful leap. His talons pierced through the doe’s shoulders and neck, punching her down to the ground. The deer snorted and shrieked. The rest of the herd took off, galloping and jumping out of the grasses.
The burgundy dragon roared and blew fire over his victim.
Ceadryl approached and gave an approving nod. “Many dragons miss their first try. Well done. You may eat first from the prize.”
Gorliad ripped the flesh open, letting the blood and sweet flesh roll over his tongue and down his throat. When he finished, nothing but a gleaming skeleton smeared with crimson blood remained. The two of them spent the rest of the day wading in the river, taking fish with their talons and eating them whole.
When the sun began its descent, the two started back for the mountain. Ceadryl dropped the hatchling off, only to pick him up again the next day, a little earlier than the first day but not nearly early enough for Gorliad to miss his morning meal snatched straight from the cook’s table before Algearon woke.
Several weeks passed. Ceadryl would show Gorliad new hunting grounds each day and they would ply his new skills upon all manner of beasts and game. Before the month was ended he had taken a goat from the side of the northern ridge, elk from the forest below, and many, many deer. On the last day of the month, Ceadryl told Gorliad that it was time for him to hunt on his own, without Ceadryl’s help. It was a test of his skills.
Gorliad was overjoyed at the thought of freedom, but the next day did not start out as well as he had planned.
Chapter 11
Gorliad woke early, as he always did now. Though he was able to eat his fill in the late afternoon, he still desired his morning meal. It was likely as much the thrill of taking it as it was actually eating the meat he stole. He crept out from the upper nursery. Thanks to Ceadryl, his stalking and creeping skills had vastly improved. There was no way Algearon would ever catch him.
He stalked down to the prep chamber. His stomach growled eagerly. The scent of freshly cut and prepared meat teased his nostrils. His pace was quick, his feet were silent. He was undetectable.
He snuck around the corner and saw all of the dwarves busy cutting the flank off several buffalo carcasses that hung from heavy chains in the back of the room.
Gorliad had not tasted buffalo before. He licked his lips and slowly stalked into the room. His tail barely cleared the entrance when a female dwarf cleared her throat. Gorliad turned and saw a she-dwarf, with long blonde hair and thick, portly arms and legs. She smiled at him and came off the wall.
“You know, my prince,” she started. “Every time you take food from the table, you run hastily and drop several more pieces onto the floor. It makes them dirty and causes a lot of extra work.” She reached behind her back and held out a juicy, thickly marbled strip of meat. “However, it always happens that I have one or two poorly cut pieces. You know, pieces that are too large for dwarves, but far too small for any dragon I know. Perhaps you could let me keep the good cuts, and I could offer you these cuts instead. What do you say?”
Gorliad smiled. He was embarrassed for being caught, but intrigued by the dwarf’s generosity. It was a welcome contrast to Algearon’s continued lectures and surly judgments.
“Agreed,” Gorliad said, for he had perfected his spoken language over the last several weeks with Ceadryl. He took the offered slab, which itself was easily as large as any two of the strips he had ever managed to steal before.
“I’ll have a piece ready for you every morning,” she said. Then she walked back toward the tables and Gorliad started his way back to the upper nursery. Along the way, a dwarf approached him.
“My prince, may I have a word?” the dwarf asked. The dwarf was dressed in gray pants with a red tunic, and had a bow over his back. “I heard today will be your hunting challenge, is that correct?”
Gorliad nodded. “It is.”
The dwarf smiled and moved in close. “I know of a great place, filled with game.”
Gorliad shook his head. “Ceadryl told me where to go. There will be plenty of game.”
The dwarf patted the air. “No, listen. Deer is easy, but if you want to impress the king, you should go for the caribou that lie far to the north.”
“Caribou?” Gorliad asked.
The dwarf nodded. “I can show you where they live. They are larger than deer, and more attentive. Therefore conquering them requires more skill and would be looked upon by all with great admiration.”
Gorliad and the dwarf formed the connection. The dwarf showed him the path up to the north, over the valley, across the river, and over a set of foothills to a basin covered in light snow. A herd of caribou numbering in the hundreds stood upon the basin, munching the tender grass beneath the snow. Then the connection broke.
“Don’t tell anyone that I told you,” the dwarf said. “We are not supposed to advise you for the hunting challenge.”
Gorliad nodded and then hurried back up to his chamber in the upper nursery.
The dwarf watched him go, and then he turned around and walked up the main tunnel. He stopped when he reached the grand hall. Teratheal sat near the door, waiting for him. No one else was present. Slowly, he approached her. The dwarf wrung his hands and looked to the floor.
“Is it done?” Teratheal asked. The dwarf nodded. Teratheal formed the connection with the dwarf, scouring his memories. She broke the connection and then looked around.
“I have told no one,” the dwarf said.
Teratheal nodded. “Nor shall you.” She reached down and bit the dwarf in half. She swallowed him without chewing and then made to leave the mountain. She wanted to be in place before the prince arrived at the prearranged location.
*****
Gorliad moved into the forest. He could feel the eyes upon him. Algearon, Ceadryl, and several others he did not know stood upon the platform in front of the mountain’s entrance. They would wait there for him. He disappeared into the forest, passing the pool of water and moving on toward the valley where he took his first deer. He crossed the shallow river and moved north.
Though his goal was the caribou herd, he kept his movements silent, just in case an animal of opportunity showed itself in his path. So quiet was he, that he was able to stalk up to a bear cub without it noticing him. When he saw it, however, he knew that the sow was likely not far away. He froze and looked around, knowing that a mother bear would attack anything near her cub.
The cub turned and saw him. It spooked, crying out for its mother and scampering up a tree.
The bushes to Gorliad’s right exploded open. A large, black bear came rushing out at him. Gorliad dodged to the left and lashed out with his tail. The bear hardly noticed the strike. It turned and rose to its hind legs, growling and blowing slobber out from its yellow fangs.
Gorliad didn’t roar. He stalked around to the right, forcing the bear to drop to all fours and turn with him. Then he jumped in. His left foreleg shot forward, catching the bear’s right foreleg and tearing through the shoulder. Gorliad then moved in with his right foreleg, gripping the bear’s fleshy neck under its jaw with his talons and pulling the head to the side so he could bite down on the nape of the bear’s neck.
&
nbsp; Blood and fur filled his mouth. The bear growled and snorted, but its strength quickly faded. Gorliad held on, ripping his teeth side to side and dragging the bear down. As the life left her, Gorliad released her body and moved on.
A bear was a good kill, he knew, but he wanted to bring this mysterious caribou home. He had never tasted caribou, and the hunters did not regularly venture that far north within the kingdom. He wanted to see his father’s pride when he brought home a prize that others could not.
He continued along the path that the dwarf had shown him. He crossed over the foothills, noting a definite chill in the air. The cold wind made him shiver. His leathery skin was beginning to form his adolescent scales, but they were neither as thick nor as tough as his mature scales would be. Even if they were, they were only just beginning to form, and looked more like bumps and cracks across his skin than any sort of realistic defense from weather or beast. He swelled up fire within his chest. He wasn’t about to expel it and alert animals to his presence, but it helped him fend off the cold.
After he crossed the third foothill he looked down into the basin and saw a herd of caribou. There were hundreds of animals grazing and moving along. None of them saw him picking his way down the slope toward them.
Neither did he see any of the eyes that watched him.
Gorliad moved down the slope, picking his way over black rocks and frozen grass. He hit the bottom of the basin a little harder than he would have liked, sliding out across a frosty slab of stone and creating a squeak that caused several in the herd of caribou to stop and look around.
The burgundy hatchling lowered himself to the ground, still and quiet.
He watched the herd as they continued to look around. Then, with no additional movement on his part, the caribou began to run. First only a few, but then the whole herd thundered out across the basin, running away from Gorliad at a pace that he would never be able to catch.
But why? He hadn’t moved or made any sound.
Gorliad’s head twitched. He saw movement to his left, or did he? He scanned the slope of the foothill and the ground around him. He didn’t see anything. Something cracked on his right. He turned and scanned the area. He saw nothing. There was only the brown and white ground. Was it simply the wind blowing the snow?
He heard the snow crunch behind him. He turned just in time to see a great feline shape launch into the air. Its paws outstretched, claws out and fangs bearing down. As Gorliad ducked out to the right, he brought his tail up and then slammed it down upon the animal, knocking it to the ground.
Another one charged in from his blindside. It leapt up and clawed at Gorliad’s back. Gorliad reached back with his mouth, took the beast by the back of its neck and flipped it to the ground in a bloody heap. Three more white and brown leopards appeared before him. Gorliad blew fire at the animals, forcing them back. Two more charged in from behind him. He struck out with a massive back kick, crushing the first leopard’s neck and sending it skipping over the ground. The second he swept out to the side with his tail.
Gorliad threw more fire, catching one of the hunters full on and charring the animal’s hide to the point that its muscle and bone over its right shoulder were opened up. The animal flopped along the ground, growling and wailing horridly.
Suddenly a wall of flame dropped down from the sky, consuming all but three of the leopards. Gorliad backed away from the searing heat and looked to the sky. A honey-colored dragon soared over him, her wings casting a shadow that swallowed him.
“My prince, move left,” the dragon above him commanded.
Gorliad dove left. A spiked tail swung down, crushing two more leopards that moved in. A second later, the big dragon dropped to the ground. In the blink of an eye she had the last animal in her mouth, crushing it in her teeth.
“Why are you out this far?” the dragon asked Gorliad.
“I was hunting caribou,” Gorliad replied.
“I am Queen Teratheal. I patrol this part of the kingdom. You are lucky I found you.” Gorliad didn’t say anything. The queen moved in and inspected his shoulder. “It does not look bad. A couple of scratches.”
“I am fine,” Gorliad said. He looked off longingly at the herd of caribou that was now barely more than little spots of brown disappearing into a cloud of upturned snow and dust.
“Come, I will take you back to the mountain.”
Gorliad shook his head, “No, I must complete my challenge.”
Teratheal motioned to the south with her head. Gorliad turned and his head dropped. His father and mother were flying speedily toward him.
“I patrol this area with a couple of lesser dragons. I sent them back for the king once I found you out this far.”
Gorliad didn’t say a word. The two of them stood still and waited for the king and high queen to arrive. The minutes passed by uncomfortably. The hatchling thought perhaps to present one of the leopards, but he had only managed to kill one, and the evidence of that was now lost in a streak of ash and embers along the ground.
The king was the first to drop upon the ground.
Teratheal bowed low. “My king, the prince is safe. Snow leopards set upon him, but he has received not more than a scratch.”
Siravel dropped next to Teratheal. “I wonder why the snow leopards would think to attack him in the first place.” Her eyes fixed on Teratheal.
“Mother, this queen saved me,” Gorliad said. “If not for her, I would likely be dead by now. I managed to slay one of the beasts, but there were far too many for me to handle.”
Geldryn moved in and nuzzled Teratheal with his snout. “You have my eternal thanks, my queen,” he said.
Siravel snorted fire and circled around to Gorliad. “What were you doing up here?” she demanded.
“I was hunting caribou,” he responded.
Siravel cocked her head to the side. “Who told you of caribou?” she pressed.
Gorliad shook his head. “No one,” he said, remembering that the dwarf asked him never to tell.
Siravel looked back to Teratheal. Her eyes narrowed on the queen, but she said nothing. Eventually she turned and flew away, leaving the others there.
Geldryn looked to the west. “The sun will be setting soon. We can resume the challenge tomorrow,” he said.
Gorliad saw the frown across his father’s face. If only he had something to offer. Then he remembered. He had a perfect prize to offer. “Father,” he said happily. “I may not have managed to catch caribou, as I had intended, but I did take a prize.”
Geldryn looked down and narrowed his eyes on Gorliad. “What did you kill?”
Gorliad puffed his chest out and stood proud. “In the forest, back by the river, I slew a she-bear all on my own. Her body lays in wait even now. I offer her as my prize.”
Geldryn locked eyes and formed the connection with Gorliad. The familiar sting was still there, but it was less intense now that he was older. The king pulled out the memories of the bear and watched the fight play out. A smile crossed his lips and he broke the connection as he saw the lifeless bear on the grass. “The prince has slain a bear. Let us go and recover the prey!” Geldryn roared and let out a long flame of orange. The other dragons present threw their heads back and did likewise.
They all traveled back to the place where Gorliad had slain the bear. Geldryn took the animal in his mouth and proudly carried it back to the mountain. The last rays of the sun fell upon the platform and Geldryn motioned for Gorliad to go inside.
The hatchling paused and looked back to the forest. All of the other dragons went directly inside. He looked up to his father. “I have one more thing to conquer today,” he said.
Geldryn placed the bear corpse on the platform. “You have done more than any hatchling before you. All other princes take deer or mountain goats for their challenge, while you slew a bear.”
Gorliad looked off in the direction of the pool. “There is one more thing. It won’t take long.”
Geldryn emitted a throaty chuckle
and nodded. “Lead on, I will go with you.”
Gorliad leapt from the platform and ran through the forest, picking up speed the closer he came to the pool. As he ripped through the final bushes and entered the clearing, he saw the green dragon resting on the opposite side of the pool.
“My prince, not again!” the green dragon called out. It rose and was about to come across the pool, but then it saw Geldryn and bowed its head.
Gorliad dove into the pool headfirst. This time he spread his talons and methodically pulled the water under his body. He also stretched his wings and used them to propel him back up to the surface. His head broke through and he easily kept himself above the surface as he swam to the other side.
“Impressive for a second try,” the green dragon announced.
Gorliad kicked off the other side and dove deep into the depths. Several young dragons came to the water’s edge and watched. Gorliad held his breath, swirling in the deep and then turning to ascend to the surface once more. The hatchling laughed and took in a new breath. Then he pulled water into his mouth and spat it at the other young dragons.
“Come in,” he bade them. They all looked to Geldryn. When the king gave his nod, the others jumped into the water. They swam around the prince, though none were as graceful or quick as he.
The green dragon circled around to the king. “He takes to the water better than any I have seen.”
Gorliad heard the words, and looked up in time to see the smile on his father’s face. His father watched him silently, letting him play in the pool until the darkness of twilight set in upon the forest and the sun had disappeared entirely.
As they walked back to the mountain, Gorliad hung close to his father. They let the others go inside the mountain first. Then Geldryn took the bear back in his mouth and the two made their way up to the upper nursery.