by Mark Tyson
The dragon’s eyes twinkled in the firelight, and Vandrick felt she must have been smiling, although her face did not reflect it. “Because I need you.”
“You need me?”
“Aye, I am with child. My mate and I came to this cave to get out of the storm. We were on our way to the red city of Draegodor. He flew out in search of food two days ago and has not returned.” She sighed. “I fear the worst.”
Vandrick’s eyelids grew heavy, and the blood flowed from his mouth freely. He choked and spit the thick blood out with a cough. “I will not be helping you. I fear this is the end of my days.”
The dragon closed her eyes. “I could heal you if you promise not to take up your sword again. I have the gift of healing, but I will not use it to give you the strength to fight against me.” Before Vandrick could answer, he slipped into unconsciousness.
He awoke beside the fire, feeling much better. The dragon loomed above him, and he tried to right himself, but the pain was still intense.
“Easy, little one, you still have some healing to do,” the dragon said.
Vandrick coughed, and the effort sent his stomach into spasms. He moved delicately until he sat upright. “You must be hungry. Why did you not simply devour me?”
“Aye, I am hungry, but if I devoured you, how would I have you help me?”
Vandrick grinned in spite of himself. “What will happen to me when your mate returns?”
She lowered her head in sorrow. “He would have returned by now unless he met with ill fate. I fear the worst, and that is why you will not be harmed.”
Vandrick struggled intently with his thoughts, and the expression on his face gave him away.
“What pains your thoughts so?” the dragon asked.
“I am Captain Vandrick of Sheair. I was charged by my king to deliver supplies to the snowed-under outposts of Ishrak on the Abaddonian border, but I have failed my king and country. Last eve, a band of Scarovian bandits raided my wagons and killed my men. While I managed to get most of the supplies they left behind into this cave, I am still no closer to finishing my task; therefore, I offer whatever I have to you for payment of saving my life.” He paused for a moment. “But know this, my failure will not only doom the outposts, but it will also forfeit my life. As far as I am concerned, I died with my men in the ambush, and die I shall.”
“I will accept your offer in payment, but I will only take what is necessary to sustain our lives and the life of my child. Help me, and I shall help you find a way to complete your task.”
Vandrick laughed aloud. “Forgive me, Lady Dragon, but the wagons are smashed, and the snow grows deeper. I am but one man. There will be no supplies for the outposts, and furthermore, the bandits could only carry off a third of their loot. When they return and find the rest mostly gone, they will start looking for it and will most likely find this cave. I have scattered some of the supplies at the sight in hopes of confusing them, but a clever bandit will figure it out.”
“Indeed.” The dragon nodded her head. “I will heal you with the grace of my goddess Loracia so that you may bring the supplies to this cavern. Do you intend to take up arms against me?”
“Nay, Lady Dragon, you have proven your might to me.”
“Very well, Knight, and my name in common tongue is Amadyre. I would thank you to use it.”
Vandrick nodded.
Amadyre closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Vandrick heard her whisper sweetly in a language he did not understand. Soon he was bathed in a golden light, and his aches and pains subsided as his heart grew strong.
“Where is your armor, Knight?”
Vandrick was irritated at the question, though he did not know why. “I took it off at the mouth of the cave. I had planned to put it back on as soon as I warmed up. I did not know I would come face-to-face with a dragon.”
Amadyre laughed, amused by Vandrick’s irritation. “We dragons shed a few scales occasionally. Since I am to give birth, I have shed a few of my scales. You may have them to fashion yourself new armor.”
“I thought dragons laid eggs,” Vandrick said. ”Yet you say you carry a child?”
Now Amadyre became irritated. “Some dragons do lay eggs; my brood does not. Not all dragons are the same, just as not all things that crawl have legs.”
“I meant no offense, Lady Amadyre. I apologize.” Vandrick cleared his throat. “I think you for the offer of your scales, but I already have a sturdy suit of armor.”
“Oh, and you took it off to get warm. My scales do not become so difficult to wear in the cold, and it is clear to me that you have no knowledge of how hard dragon scales are—they are legend. Your armor, no matter how sturdy, is no match for the scales of a dragon.”
Vandrick thought on the subject for moment and then accepted the gift of scales. He returned to the mouth of the cave and retrieved his armor and a few of the provisions. He used the straps and belts from his metal armor to fashion the dragon scales into a breastplate and greaves. Amadyre used her sharp dragon claws to cut the scales where Vandrick required, and he used pieces of his own armor to fill in the gaps. The red scales glistened in the firelight, and Vandrick was pleased with his new armor, if not a bit apprehensive of accepting such a gift. However, if the bandits returned, he would need all the extra help he could get.
After they had eaten, Vandrick took up his sword and headed for the entrance to bring the remainder of the provisions to the cavern. He was halfway between the cavern and the cave mouth when he first heard the guttural voices ahead. The bandits had found the cave. Vandrick knew the bandits would come deeper into the cave to find the one who had moved the loot, and he also feared they would want to slay Amadyre, so he rushed forward and caught the marauders by surprise. One bandit volleyed arrows at him, which bounded off his dragon armor without leaving a scratch. He quickly disposed of the archer and hacked and slashed his way through another. The Scarovs all wore black armor, and they had thick fur caps covering their faces except for a space around the eyes. It was their dark complexion and striking blue eyes that gave them away. Vandrick used all of his might and skill to protect the provisions, and soon the bandits all lay dead. He decided he would pull the bodies out of the cave, and he began to drag one out when he realized the main force of the bandits remained outside the cave. As soon as they spotted him, they charged, screaming guttural chants and working themselves into a frenzy. Vandrick dropped the dead Scarovian and met the force of the marauders head on. He was grossly outnumbered, but the dragon scale armor held up against most of the blows. He hacked and whirled, but the bandits were too many, and soon he was taking sword thrusts in between the dragon scales. His vision became blurry from the blood in his eyes, and the stabbing swords felt like a thousand needles attacking him from all sides. He fell to his knees. A bandit wearing red fox fur around his face raised his sword to relieve Vandrick of his head. Vandrick braced for the stroke.
From somewhere behind him, near the cave, he heard what sounded like an intense gust of wind. Again and again, the sound came. Vandrick peered up at the bandit, who was poised to kill him, and saw the terror in the Scarovian’s eyes. Lethargically he looked to the sky to where the bandits’ gaze was fixed. Amadyre burst out of the cave in full fight, her red scales all a blur. Smoke poured out of her maw in a black stream trailing behind her. She rounded in the sky and turned back to the bandits, who were now scrambling. She spit great bellows of fire, encasing several of the unlucky bandits in a fiery death. The bandit in front of Vandrick dropped his sword and bolted. Amadyre pounced on him, snapping her maw shut around his torso. She cocked her head back and devoured him in two crushing bites.
Vandrick smiled at the fact that justice had been served for the men he had lost, and then he collapsed from the pain and the intensity of his wounds.
He awoke in the cavern. Amadyre was in the far corner behind a raging fire that he could see the remnants of the lost wagons burning in. He moved to his feet, ignoring the pain in his limbs. He crossed
the rough cavern floor to where Amadyre was hunched over sobbing.
“Lady Amadyre? Is something the matter?” he inquired.
The dragon shifted, and Vandrick saw the outline of a drake wrapped in one of the blankets from the supply wagons. It was not moving.
“Is it . . . ?” he said, not knowing what to ask.
“He is dead. Stillborn.”
“My lady, I am sorry.” He bowed his head.
“You had died, Knight. I could not heal you, but I tried anyway. I prayed to Loracia to give me strength to do the impossible, and she granted my request. You lived, but the strain for me was too great to bear. One life is traded for another.”
Vandrick dropped to his knees. “Why would you do such a thing? I am but a stranger to you.”
Amadyre let a teardrop fall. “Because it had to be done. Even if I had known the cost beforehand, I would have prayed for it. You sacrificed yourself to protect me; I could not let you die.”
Vandrick was dumbfounded. He did not know much about the ways of dragons, but he knew they only had young once every one hundred seasons or so. He had been saved by Amadyre twice now, and once at a terrible cost. He stood to his feet and put his hand on Amadyre’s massive head. “I owe you a life, and a life I shall pay you. From this day forward, I shall be yours as my honor as a knight dictates. My heart, my soul, my body, everything I am belongs to Amadyre. This I swear, and what I swear is bound by honor and cannot be undone.”
“No, Knight, you have king and country to swear allegiance to.”
“I have failed king and country, and I shall never return, my lady dragon. Do not insult my honor as a knight. I bind my allegiance where my heart requires. I am yours. A life for a life.”
Amadyre raised her head level to Vandrick’s. “So be it, Dragon Knight.”