The Dragon Slayer (Dragon Prince Series Book 1)

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The Dragon Slayer (Dragon Prince Series Book 1) Page 4

by Marie Daye


  Eskil chuckled another deep throaty chuckle, his whole body shaking with his laughter. His ebony scaled tail slammed down hard on the ground and his wings adjusted his body weight as he moved even closer to her. The movements kicked up more dust around them, shielding her demise from all those who could watch.

  "Little slayer," Eskil repeated his words, but this time it sounded more like a whisper. The black dragon moved around her, his head leveling with hers as he slowly walked in a circle around her. He stopped behind her, his chin brushing against her shoulder when his long and snake like tongue sneaked from his mouth and slowly licked her sweaty skin.

  Another chuckle shook him as she shivered, breaking her statue-like trance. She spun around, swinging her blade towards his head to no avail. His mouth opened wide and he caught her arm, his teeth clamping down against her chain mail and it felt like he was crushing her bone. She stifled her cry between clenched teeth and tight lips. She never stopped glaring at him, even as he smacked his tail to the ground again and lifted her up by her aching arm. She dropped the sword, her muscles spasming from the pain.

  Eskil then turned his head and released her arm, she fell to the ground and landed on her back. Quickly she scrambled to her feet when he lowered his gaze back to hers. Eskil pushed his snout up against her chest this time, his nostrils flaring as he deeply inhaled her scent. His eyes closed while he breathed, and a cat like purr escaped from his curled lips. His wet and slimy tongue lapped at her again, trailing a path of saliva from her collarbone up to her cheek. Her eyes widened even further, when he curled his lips into a dark and threatening smile while licking his lips.

  "I will break you."

  With those words Eskil pushed up from the ground, his large wings carrying him high into the sky as he soared away. A final roar was her only good-bye. Libelle collapsed, the tenseness in her body finally releasing and she dropped to her hands and knees gasping for air. Had she been holding her breath this entire time?

  “My lord?!" Gaalin hollered, his voice sounded like it was far off in the distance.

  She didn't respond, she couldn't. Her body was trembling in fear for the first time in a long time, in just a moment Eskil seeped terror into her core. She hadn't felt this sort of fear since her first time meeting the wicked demon, since the first time she had to fight a dragon, since the time she learned she was one of the cursed.

  Gaalin called out again, the dust was clearing and she could see his silhouette. His gaze found her crouched down on the ground, she stared blankly at the soil fisted in her grip. Mentally trying to calm herself down, to stop the shivering in her limbs. She was taking deep breaths, trying to clear her mind when Gaalin reached her side once more.

  "By all the gods, he did not kill you?!" Gaalin spoke in disbelief, gripping her by the arm again and yanking her to her feet as the surviving guards ran towards them.

  He held her up with a firm grip to her armor, glaring as a few of the guards ventured too close. They all began speaking at once, asking question after question that could not be heard as they all spoke over one another.

  Libelle sighed, her head rolled back and she stared up at the sun now at its peak point in the sky. She pulled away from Gaalin when her legs finally ceased their shaking, and she took several steps away from him and the crowd. Gaalin was barking at the herd of people forming around them, demanding that they back off and they obeyed in fear of retaliation. So many people were trying to approach her to express their gratitude, so many had the need to touch her.

  Gaalin barked at them once more before turning his eyes to hers, "What just happened?"

  She shook her head, "I don't know."

  "What did that beast want?"

  She shook her head again. "I don't know, but I do know what I need to do."

  "And what is that?"

  "I need to visit the gods." She continued moving away from Gaalin, down the paved path in the direction of Edinburgh. The citizens had slowly began to dwindle from following her and now clustered around the corpse of the ancient dragon. Gaalin was keeping pace next to her, his face seemingly annoyed.

  "You just killed yourself a dragon and you want to go hanging about with some old men who do nothing but sit on a mountain praying? You don't want to celebrate?" He jestingly elbowed her in her side.

  "No Gaalin, this is an important matter. I must see to it. I’ve been working with the priests at the temple for a long time now, I’ve praying to the gods that our efforts were not in vain."

  She pinned her fingers together and held them to her lips, letting out a loud whistle; then removed her helmet and handed it to her disgruntled manservant who seemed to be searching her expression for any hint towards her intentions.

  "What is it you must see to so urgently?" He asked, "You never just leave like this, not without an explanation."

  Libelle let out another sigh catching her fine stallion's reins as he trotted up to her with a quiet nicker. "I cannot explain right now. Just do as I say, return home and tend to the house and livestock. I'll return as soon as I can."

  Gaalin caught her chin in his hand, turning her head upwards so he could stare into her distant eyes. His facial expression was grim, a frown forming in his brow and his dark skin showing fine wrinkles with his age and stress. His eyes flickered as he looked over her, and he felt himself wanting to bend down and catch her supple lips in a kiss. His eyes squeezed shut hard and he exhaled slowly, he let go of her chin and stepped away.

  "Be safe then." He murmured, holding onto her horse so she could swing herself into the saddle. His coarse hands rubbed the back of his neck, his leather armor forming more to his muscles as he moved his arms across his chest.

  Libelle took a breath before sighing again, her old friend was simply looking out for her but she was beginning to get annoyed by his gaze. One that was lustful but conflicted, the man obviously desired her in ways that she was not comfortable with. How she had handled it until now was surprising, she had continued to just treat him like anyone else. She kept him at a distance. She did not want a relationship with another being, with anyone. She would not tie a liability to herself, not with a war between man and dragon.

  She urged her horse forward, clearing her mind and only thinking of the task in front of her. She must visit the priests in Uppsala, she had to speak with them urgently. Through them she could speak with the Gods once again, perhaps finding the answer to her own riddle.

  What could be done to finally stop the war between man and dragon?

  Chapter Three

  Libelle climbed the frozen steps of Uppsala her horse behind her taking short steps and both watching their feet. If either were to step in the wrong place they would simply slip and probably fall to their death. The double doors of the monument were in view, and the exhausted pair both seemed to take a breath of relief. Her armor had formed frost and her eyelashes were sticking together in the cold. Each breath resulted in a puff of hot air, the cold was stinging her lungs making it painful to breath.

  It had been nearly two weeks since she had left Gaalin standing like a fool in a scorched wheat field. Her journey to Uppsala had taken longer than expected, heavy storms had forced her to seek shelter more than she had cared for. Typically she would travel to Uppsala in the early fall to visit with the priests if the gods, conversing with the gods and spending several days sacrificing to honor them.

  The height of the temple within the mountains made it difficult to reach, and more than half the year the temple was covered in snow. The climate this high up was colder than anywhere else in the land, and only during early fall was there the least amount of snow. The frigid temperatures were mildly less freezing, making the yearly pilgrimage slightly more tolerable.

  Libelle led her horse up the final slope of stairs and pushed open the heavy door, letting her horse walk past her into the warmth of the building. She stepped in after him and shut the door behind her, a loud thud echoed into the main hall. Her horse shook its entire body, sending the built u
p snow and frost onto the floor. She patted her armor down and pulled off her wool cloak, setting it near the fire on a high hook to dry.

  Someone cleared their throat behind her, and she turned to see the Seer, Davyn. He was the high priest of the gods, governing the other priests within the temple. She had not seen him for almost three months, the last time they had spoken was during her pilgrimage. "The main hall of Uppsala is not a stable slayer."

  She shrugged, "You’re right, it’s not... But it would make a fine one."

  Davyn did not find any humor in her comment, he stood on the opposite side of the room with his hands crossed together. He waited patiently as she shook the snow and frost from herself, then joined her as she stood next to the fire in the main hall to warm her frozen fingers.

  “If you’re here unannounced like this, you must need something?” He spoke, his voice elderly and wise, his thick accent much more proper in comparison to hers.

  “Yes, it’s rather urgent.”

  His eyes never left the flames. “It must be something serious then.”

  “Yes, it is.” She rubbed her cold hands together and then blew into them, the heat from her breath stinging the chilled nerves. “It’s about Eskil.”

  Davyn smiled, his shaved face wrinkling with the gesture. “Isn't it always? Come, Vegeir will surely want to hear about this if it's such an important matter.”

  Libelle followed him as he turned and walked from the main hall, his footsteps muffled beneath his heavy robes. Talismans around his neck clattered, the carved animal bones signifying his place as head priest to the Gods. “Vegeir is down from the peaks then? He doesn’t do that very often anymore. What's he up too?”

  “Speaking with the priests. It is rare, but occasionally he does travel down to the court yard to keep us company.” He walked past a large pillar before approaching another set of twin doors, turning and waiting for her as she took a moment to pay her respects to the large wooden and stone carvings that depicted a few of their gods. Odin, Freyr, and Thor.

  Despite there being a large lineage of God's, Uppsala displayed statues of only three. The remaining gods and goddesses were conversed with through talismans, smaller shrines, and through the priests. They were capable of going into a deep trance, delving into the empty world where man and god could speak.

  Her conversion to paganism had taken years, born to a dying race of elves that worshiped deities who were now unknown to her. Adopted by a kind Nordic couple, she was raised as a pagan; however she had to wait until she was of age to convert to the religion she held dearly. She bowed before the statue of Thor, praying to the God of Thunder and Battle to aid her in her upcoming fight.

  Davyn nodded to her when she stood up straight, returning to his side as he pushed against the heavy lumber and allowed her walk down the steps into the snowy courtyard. She paused in front of the remaining priests, taking a moment in front of each one to clasp her hands together and give them a slight bow. Olief, Kirk, and Jolgeir returned the gesture, however their expressions much more placid than hers.

  She walked towards the center of the courtyard, stepping through the deep snow drifts to approach Vegeir who sat perched among a tall cliff. He was among a few dragons within the islands who would take time to converse with mortals, and one of very few being’s she could trust. His snow colored scales practically blended him into the scenery, if it were not for his movement or his voice: one could mistake him for a large, oddly shaped rock.

  A gust of wind kicked up all the loose snow and pushed it into the air, creating a small twister of snow that danced about. The courtyard was always cold, the once tall walls that surrounded it were now crumbled down into piles of rubble. A trio of large stone pillars held a large fire pit that they all seemed to stand closer to, the large fire radiated a lot of heat to warm them when each gust of wind threatened to chill them to their bones.

  Vegeir nodded at Libelle, and when he spoke his voice carried out to her in the wind. “Welcome Slayer, you have traveled to the temple at quite an odd time. Do you come to pray to the Gods?”

  She shook her head, “I am sorry Vegeir, but I have come here today for other reasons. A rather urgent matter.”

  “Oh?” He asked, his ancient voice rumbling. “What reason is that?”

  She pulled her pack from her shoulder and opened the leather flap, reaching in and rummaging around for the one thing she had been working so hard on for the last few weeks. She pulled her hand from her bag, and with it came an ivory papered scroll with gold ends. She held it up to the dragon whose gaze seemed to never change.

  “What is that?” He asked.

  “A ritual, it combines great magic and the power that the gods have lent me.”

  Vegeir’s eyes widened, and he leaned further in towards her. Davyn spoke next, disbelief and annoyance broke through his tone of voice. “Slayer, the gods do not simply lend their power to all those that ask. What you are saying is lunacy.”

  “Yes, it may be a tad crazy. But, if you listen to my story you will all understand.”

  Vegeir remained close to her as he examined the small scroll. “Go on Slayer.”

  She inhaled, “Eskil is up to something, he has been plotting something evil for months now. I don’t know what it is he plans, but it is not good. Two weeks ago, an ancient dragon attacked Edinburgh on Eskil’s command. It did not speak of anything wise, it was nothing more than a pawn in a game it called itself.

  “It attacked and then waited, waited for me to come. It was drawing me out for some ill plot. Moments later, Eskil appeared. He could have killed me in an instant, yet he did not. He spoke, and he… then he left. I did not know what to do, if he wanted me dead he had his opportunity. It makes sense now, especially when I think about it. For months dragons have been attacking towns at random, killing townsfolk and livestock before disappearing. They never seem to return for their meals, not unless I am summoned to that location. Eskil is testing me, right?”

  Davyn nodded, “Yes it sounds like he is. But for what reason?”

  “I don’t know. The reason behind that devil’s actions is beyond my understanding. But I've been planning, trying to find a way to defeat that vile creature. He cannot be killed, this much I know. I have spoken with the gods, with Odin and Borr.”

  His eyes widened and she continued. “Búri created dragons around the time Odin’s sons Thor and Loki were born. Eskil was the first dragon to be created, this I am sure you know.”

  “Correct, I am aware of my history slayer.”

  She sighed, “What many may not know, what I didn’t know… Is that Eskil is the vessel of the gods, it’s what his name means anyways. Búri created dragon’s to be a companion to the nord’s, and it started out that way, however now we’ve been warring with each other for thousands of years. Vegeir, the gods want the war to end just as much as you or I want it to.”

  Vegeir nodded, “I believe that, man and dragon never would have gone to war if it had not been due to that unfortunate... event.”

  “I’ve hear the stories Vegeir, Eskil’s concubine or something was killed during a peace talk.”

  Vegeir spoke again, “Some things are not so simple Slayer.”

  “Odin is having his son aid me, lending me his knowledge and strength. Loki, he knows of magic that will help us defeat Eskil once and for all.”

  “This is madness slayer.” Davyn growled.

  “Look, you need to-.” She shook her head with a sigh, trying to stay on topic. “Vegeir, you know the turmoil that boils in my soul each time I am faced against one of your kin. I do not like killing the dragons. I have found great allies with some of you, but others are still stuck in the old ways. They want nothing more than to have mortals become an extinct race, a pile of ash and bone for them to nest on. You know I must not let that happen.”

  Vegeir and the priests nodded in agreement. “So what is this plan of yours?” Davyn asked with a frown.

  Libelle chuckled nervously, “Well, it’ll soun
d a wee bit mad when I say it. But the logic and planning behind it makes it much more of a solid plan, more than we have had in a while. The gods are willing to lend us their strength, Loki has given me this scroll and within it is his power. He told me that using this scroll against Eskil, it will render him no more fearsome that a kitten.”

  Vegeir chuckled, “That, would be a sight to see Slayer.”

  “Yes, it would be. Loki said that this magic will make it so Eskil will not be able to harm any mortal. Odin believes that if the dragon ‘prince’ is unable to take a life, naturally the remaining dragons will change their opinion on this war. Either way, Eskil will not be able to harm any mortal. Not in this life or the next. He will not be able to take the life of a mortal, he will not be able to even command an action that will be known to cause harm to mortals.”

  “This plan is testing my knowledge, however I am putting all of my faith into the gods. If they want this war to end, they will not fail us. That much I believe.”

  Libelle looked amongst her companions who stared back at her silently, the wheels turning in their minds as they thought over the description of her plan. Yes, she agreed it sounded like lunacy but it was the only plan that they had. She waited for one of them to respond.

  Davyn was the first to respond and actually scowled at Libelle, "This is madness Slayer, and you know it as well as I do."

  "Yes!" She shouted at him without raising her head to look at him. "It is madness, yet maybe we need a little bit of madness to win this war. Everything I've done up till now has been for nothing!'

  "Slayer, this will not work. Never has anything like this been done, combining magic and the strength of the gods? It will be chaos." Davyn said, trying to find an ounce of logic behind Libelle’s mad plan.

  “Davyn, I am one of very few slayer’s left. The cursed beings are dying off one by one, and with our deaths the nord’s are losing the one thing that gave them hope in this war. We are mortal, but we have the soul of a dragon and with it their strength. If I don’t try, what’s to stop Eskil and his army from winning?”

 

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