by Sam Ferguson
“Is there trouble?” he asked.
“You are the trouble,” someone shouted. A few echoed the sentiment.
Fenerir stepped forward and held his hands up in the air. “Friends, everything is fine,” he shouted over the growing din.
“That is what you said yesterday, and the day before that, but where is Hermean?” a dwarf shouted out.
“You can try to deny it, but we all know that the dragon is dying. In the meantime we are stuck here with no food, and no shelter.”
“We have shelter,” Fenerir replied. “True it is a bit cramped, but it protects us from the cold.”
“What about food?” none of us have had food since we camped here.”
“I can find food,” Gorliad said, summoning his strength and booming over the crowd.
A young, brown-bearded dwarf stepped forward and placed big, meaty fists on his hips. “Tell me where we are going?” he asked. “Where is this great mountain you found for us?”
Gorliad looked down and was about to answer when he caught sight of something in the air. He narrowed his snow white eyes on the image and soon realized that he saw Hermean flying back to them. He smiled and his muscles found new strength as he saw his friend. “Hermean has returned, and now we will be able to move.”
The crowd looked up to the sky and parted when Hermean landed. All, that is, except for the brown-bearded dwarf who stood firm and glared at Hermean.
“Where have you been?”
Hermean jumped off his saddle and looked around him. “What is going on here?” he asked.
“The others are growing restless,” Fenerir said.
Hermean nodded and walked toward the crowd. He looked back to Gorliad and winked.
“Why have you left us here to die?” the brown-bearded dwarf shouted out.
“To die?” Hermean echoed. “I went to find something we needed.” He strode up to the brown-bearded dwarf and stopped within a hand’s breadth of the dwarf’s face. “Where is your courage, Sandjean? We are close to our new home.” He held his hand up and gestured to Gorliad. “We have a dragon among us to help fight our battles. Do we not have much to be thankful for?”
“He grows weak!” Sandjean shouted back. “He slept all of yesterday. This morning he barely woke, and we thought he had passed in the night.”
“Clearly, that is not the case,” Hermean rebutted. “He stands before you now.”
“He has no fire,” someone shouted.
Hermean shot a glance to Fenerir, but the other dwarf shook his head. Hermean nodded and turned back to the crowd.
“We want the truth!” a female dwarf shouted from amidst the crowd.
“The truth is I have no flame,” Gorliad admitted suddenly. “I lost it when the troll king speared me in the shoulder.
The crowd murmured.
Sandjean pointed a fist at Gorliad. “You have no right to lead us!” he shouted. “We should go back.”
“Back to what?” Hermean asked. “Have you forgotten that we have no home? Or do you imagine that King Geldryn will take us under his wing and join us with his other dwarves? Let me tell you, I saw the black prince. I witnessed firsthand that he would slay us all if he knew of us.”
“Where was he when the trolls slaughtered us?” Sandjean shouted.
“He was with me, fighting the troll king,” Fenerir shouted back. “If you care to see the ash pile from the nasty monster’s remains, be my guest. Travel to the north through the burnt forest.”
Sandjean bristled. He turned back to the crowd. “How many did we lose on that day, thirty, forty, fifty? Why follow this dragon and this dreaming dwarf through the wilderness? They follow a light in the sky, as if it will lead them to a new, safe haven where we can prosper. How can dwarves prosper in the frozen wilds?”
Hermean raised his hands and tried to quiet the crowd, but they continued to shout and jeer. Suddenly his drake sent a column of fire at the crowd’s feet. They all jumped back and quieted down. Hermean folded his arms and glared at them.
“You think the trolls were the worst we have been through?” he asked. “Have you forgotten the first winter we spent together? All of you would have died if not for me moving you into the hills closer to Geldryn’s lands. The snow and the ice buried us deep in the caves, with little to eat. Or how about the summer four years later, when half of the camp came down with dysentery? More died then than from the trolls. Or the sickness that swept through our camp in our twelfth winter together, that one also took more than died from the trolls. Let us not forget the goblin dens we stumbled upon in our twentieth year either. They slaughtered our old, our young, and many of our warriors when we traveled north on the western border of Geldryn’s lands. Only when we turned back to the south, and kept close to Geldryn’s southwest border did we ever find peace, and even that was not a period without struggle. There have ever been dangers.” Hermean pointed a finger at Gorliad. “But this is the first time we have had hope, I mean real hope. Gorliad comes to us not to conquer and dominate us, but to work with us, and to fight with us. No other dragon has offered that before.”
“He is maim, and weak,” Sandjean said. This time no one in the crowd said anything. They were all silenced by Hermean’s words.
“He is weak?” Hermean asked. “Fenerir, how tall was that troll king?”
“As tall as Gorliad,” the dwarf replied.
“Could you defeat him by yourself?” Hermean pressed.
“Not a chance.”
Sandjean clenched his jaw and shook his head. “We wouldn’t have to fight the trolls if we hadn’t come here in the first place.”
Gorliad lifted his tail and brought it down with a sudden faawump! All eyes turned to him. “I force no one to come with me, but know this. Teratheal is dead. You have no chance of integrating with Geldryn’s folk. His tradition calls for order in everything. There is no room for adopting orphaned peoples. Even if there were, High Queen Siravel would never allow dwarves to live who hail from the same mountain that Teratheal was hatched in. She held only hatred for her, and any associated with her. Furthermore, my brother, the black prince as Hermean has called him, will stop at nothing to destroy you. He is ruthless, and without heart. He will kill you and lay your bodies at Geldryn’s feet in triumph. You are not safe as long as you live in the shadow of Geldryn’s mountain.”
“You don’t even know where we are going!” Sandjean shouted. “You lead us into the wilds, to face foes that none can conquer, and ask us to tame lands that cannot be tamed!”
Gorliad leaned down and let out a fierce roar that shook the ground and knocked the brown-bearded dwarf to his rump. When he finished his roar, he snorted and stood over the dwarf. “With hearts of fire, we shall tame the wilds. We follow the aurora, which will lead us to a home where we will be safe. Yes, we will need to fight for every meter of ground, but it will be our home. A home where all are free and none are forced under the yoke of a domineering king who rules with tooth and claw. That is the dream the Aurorean has offered us.” Gorliad looked up to the others and snarled. “It won’t be easy, and it should not be. For what kind of prize would it be to stumble upon a crystal palace and not know the struggles of earning such comfort? Would we esteem such a land as home, or would we trod over it looking for bigger and better things? How are we to know peace if we are not willing to fight for it?”
Sandjean scrambled to his feet. “I am as tough as any other here, but I do not want to fight for every meter. I say we make our home in these mountains here. We have cleared the trolls. We can dig tunnels and begin to search for food. There was caribou in abundance on the other side of the ridge. I am done fighting. I want to rest.”
Gorliad nodded and looked down at the brown-bearded dwarf. “I know you have struggled long. Thirty years is a long time to wander in the wilds. I know there is a better place for us to the south. The aurora leads us to it. You say that I am lame, and weak, but you are wrong. True, my right arm does not move, but I have slain a troll king.
I have also beaten another king dragon in battle.” He lowered his snout down to the dwarf’s face and growled. “Some say I did these in spite of my crippling injuries, but I say I accomplished these feats because of my handicap. I am different than other dragons in more ways than physical. I have the heart to tame that which causes other dragons to tremble and cower in fear.” He raised his head and looked back to the crowd. “And with all of you at my side, I am even stronger. All of us together, we can make this happen. We can realize our dream and find rest, but not in these mountains. These are yet too close to Geldryn. Beleriad, my brother, will find this range when he matures. If he finds us here, he will bring all of Geldryn’s might against us. To survive, we must move beyond his grasp. Any who pledge to fight and struggle with me, I pledge to protect to the best of my abilities.”
The burgundy dragon paused and then moved his head down to be even with Sandjean’s face again. He stared at the dwarf for a moment and then snarled. “Any who are too lazy or afraid, are free to return to the north.”
Gorliad then shook out his neck and snorted as he turned to walk away from the group. As his anger left him and he became aware of his body again, he could feel the cold and fatigue setting in once more. He focused on walking with his head high, limping along without looking back at Sandjean or the others. As the dwarves shouted amongst themselves, Gorliad turned his senses forward, refusing even to listen to their arguing.
He moved two hundred meters away and then dropped down to rest again. A moment later, Hermean and his drake landed in front of him. Hermean smiled and gestured to the backpack.
“I have the remedy here.”
“They are right to lose faith,” Gorliad commented.
“Don’t,” Hermean said. “The prize in this bag had too large a price to pay for you to doubt yourself,” Hermean scolded.
Gorliad smiled faintly. “I mean only that I can understand their anger. Don’t be too hard on them.”
A blinding, searing pain ripped through Gorliad’s shoulder. The burgundy dragon roared and fell to his left side, barely aware of the fact that Hermean was clinging to him. The dwarf held tight onto Gorliad’s right foreleg, and pressed something into the wound in the dragon’s shoulder.
“Hold still!” Hermean said. “Everyone is staring at you now, show some self-respect.”
Gorliad didn’t respond. His head hit the ground and his breathing quickened. A fire burned in his shoulder, hotter than anything he had ever experienced before. The dragon moaned and snarled, thrashing his tail about behind him.
“This has to stay in the wound for three days,” Hermean said after the dragon calmed and lay still. “It will pull the troll king’s magic out of your body.”
Gorliad grunted.
Hermean patted him and then climbed down to the ground. He moved around to the dragon’s face and came near to Gorliad’s right eye. “It is a special ruby.” He turned and looked up at the wound. “It’s glowing pretty brightly too. I suppose that means it is working.”
Gorliad grunted again and then sucked in a breath. The snow swirled around his nostrils violently with each breath. The dragon felt a tingling run through his body. The cold that had stretched through him, seizing his bones and muscles, began to thaw. His body became a horrible mix of stinging heat and tickling itches as the cold melted and slid out from him.
“Try to show some spirit here,” Hermean insisted. “Sandjean and Fenerir are coming.” Hermean stood back from Gorliad’s snout and moved around to greet the others.
“What has happened?” Gorliad heard Sandjean ask. “Has he succumbed to his wounds?”
“No,” Hermean said. “He is fine. I found the remedy for the troll king’s magic and Gorliad is resting now.”
“He has been resting,” Sandjean shouted. “We need him to fly out and find food.”
“I will find food, as I always do,” Hermean said.
“How long will he rest?” Fenerir asked.
“Three days,” Hermean replied.
“Three days!” Sandjean boomed. “We can’t live here another three days. This is ludicrous.”
“Sandjean, hold your tongue,” Hermean demanded. “I will have you know that a troll king is no easy foe. Many dragons have been slain by them in the past.”
“Exactly my point, this shows that he is too weak to lead us!” Sandjean exclaimed.
“On the contrary,” Hermean said. “It proves he is stronger than most dragons. The fact that he lives, and defeated the troll king, shows he is fully capable to help us establish a new home.”
“Go and find food,” Fenerir said. “We have been tracking some deer in the east, maybe ten kilometers away. If you go out in advance, I will send some of the others to help carry the food back. We have prepared litters and sleds.”
“You are forgetting that the deer haven’t been seen for more than a day,” Sandjean commented dryly.
To their surprise, Gorliad stood then and turned to face them. “Sandjean, when I fought the troll king, he tried to convince me that dwarf flesh was a delicacy. I rebuffed the notion and slew him, but listening to you I am starting to be tempted. Shut your mouth or I may have to see whether that old, nasty monster was wise in his choice of meats.”
Sandjean stood there with his mouth slack as Fenerir and Hermean chuckled softly. Gorliad’s nostrils flared and he snorted. A faint, thin wisp of smoke snaked out and wrapped around Sandjean’s face.
Fenerir pointed to the smoke as it dissipated in the light breeze. “Whatever you did, Hermean, it is working.”
Gorliad nodded. “I am growing stronger by the minute,” he confirmed. “If the ruby must stay in my shoulder for three days, I will let it, but I don’t think I will need to sleep to allow it to finish its work. I feel strong. Go, find food. Soon, I think, I will follow you on wing and help with the hunt.”
Hermean nodded his head. “After the third day, I have another jewel that will help you regain your fire.”
Sandjean abruptly turned and walked away, nervously throwing glances over his shoulder every few meters.
“I will tell the others to prepare to follow you with the sleds,” Fenerir said with a smile. He made a fist in front of his face and shook it at Gorliad, with a fat smile upon his face. “Strength to you, dragon friend.”
Gorliad smiled back. He liked that title. He liked it a lot.
Chapter 27
As the sun began to set upon the tundra, the mood among the camp had improved significantly. Dwarves played on drums and flutes, dancing around in small circles dotting the snow around the shelters as they feasted upon deer. Gorliad watched them all with a big grin on his face. He, himself had also eaten his fill for the first time in days. The pain radiating in his body had lessened to the point that he was only mildly aware of it. It was most intense at the actual wound, where the ruby seemed to have fused with his flesh and formed a kind of scab had formed from the gem.
A pair of young dwarf children ran around the back of the nearest shelter, one chasing the other. They giggled and laughed as they ran by. It was a sound Gorliad was not accustomed to, but it warmed his soul and made the snow around him feel more inviting than Geldryn’s forests ever had.
“This is what it is about,” Hermean said from nearby.
The burgundy dragon looked down to see the dwarf approaching with a hunk of meat in his left hand. “There are those who would disagree,” Gorliad said.
“What use is tradition if not to nurture our families?” Hermean asked. “Why fight at all for land and wealth if not to protect those you love?”
“I wouldn’t know what it is to have a family,” Gorliad said, the longing in his voice was evident, but he wasn’t seeking sympathy. Rather, he was making a factual observation. “However, I would be happy to spend my days fighting for their families.”
Hermean took a big bite of his food and chewed it obnoxiously. “Maybe I will take a wife,” he said.
Gorliad shifted to look at the dwarf more directly. “Who i
s the lucky dwarf?” he asked.
Hermean shrugged. “Don’t know,” he said though a mouthful of food. “I just mean that if things settle down, then maybe I can find a wife and make a few of those little squawkers myself.” He pointed at the pair of kids still chasing each other around the camp.
Gorliad nodded and looked back to the camp. He saw an unexpected visitor coming toward him then. Sandjean walked slowly, with his head down and his hands behind his back. The brown-bearded dwarf stopped within a few meters of Gorliad and stood there silently, as if waiting for permission to speak.
“What do you want?” Hermean spat through another big bite of half-chewed meat in his mouth.
“I, I came to apologize,” Sandjean said. “After seeing the bounty you brought back, and thinking upon your words, I have come to understand that I was wrong.”
Gorliad was silent for a moment and finally nodded his head. “I might have had similar doubts if I were you.” The burgundy dragon noticed that the others in the camp stopped dancing and playing their instruments. They all turned to the south and pointed at the sky. Gorliad turned his head around and saw the aurora burning brightly in the darkening sky.
“Unusual for it to be so bright before dark,” Hermean said.
“No,” Gorliad said. “It is a sign from the Aurorean.” The dragon rose to his feet. “We should be on our way. Have the camp ready to move. I will fly to the south a short distance and then return to walk with the group.”
“As you say,” Hermean said.
Gorliad spread his wings and looked down at the two dwarves moving away. “Sandjean,” he called out. The brown-bearded dwarf stopped and turned back to him. “Would you care to join me?”
Sandjean cocked his head sideways and then pointed to his own chest. “You want me to go with you? What, on your back?”
Gorliad grinned slightly. “It is an exhilarating feeling to fly.”
Sandjean shook his head. “I was in the basket,” he replied.