Fire Rider

by T M Miller

  The firedrake’s head now filled the balcony door frame as it peered in at him. Its blue tongue flicked out then in, and it gave a strange hiccupping sort of squeak. Jaron cried out and back-pedalled over the bed until he fell off the other side with a thump.

  ‘Tarp! Let me in, would you? Get back, you great lump!’

  Jaron peered over the bed in time to see the firedrake’s head pull right back. It was now hovering outside the balcony, wings beating, its clawed forepaws gripping the balcony wall to keep it in place. Flick came into view, standing upright on the point of the beast’s shoulders. He ran lightly along its neck, arms outstretched for balance and with neat footwork avoiding the raised scale plates. Crouching, he dropped down onto a foreleg and swung himself onto the balcony. The young Raken sauntered through the open doors but stopped short when he caught sight of Jaron’s face from behind the bed.

  ‘What are you doing down there? Are you alright?’ he asked, concerned.

  ‘Um, yes.’ Jaron stood up slowly, stealing a glance past Flick at the now-empty balcony doors.

  ‘Ah, sorry we startled you. Didn’t mean to but we’ve been waiting ages for you to wake up and Tarp got a bit impatient.’ The young man studied him for a moment with a level gaze. In daylight, Jaron noticed his eyes were an unusual green, although not quite as vivid as his firedrake’s were. When Jaron didn’t say anything in reply, Flick wandered off to stick his head into Jaron’s little washroom. ‘Quite a nice den you’ve got here,’ he said, looking around.

  ‘Yes, I like it.’ Jaron’s voice sounded unnaturally high and he coughed, trying to mask it.

  ‘Did we disturb you in the early hours?’ Flick asked, turning back.

  Jaron stared at him blankly.

  ‘The Ernots tried another raid on the barns,’ Flick grinned, ‘but we got them running soon enough.’ This last was said with some pride.

  Jaron shook his head dumbly and stole another look at the balcony. It was still empty and he felt his faculties returning. ‘How did you know where I was?’

  ‘Didn’t you know one of our postings was on your roof?’

  Jaron stared and shook his head slowly.

  ‘We can see the storage barns from here.’

  ‘Oh.’ He hadn’t realised the stable tower was a regular post. Just brilliant, out of all the places they could be stationed in the whole of Tiara.

  Flick was wandering around the room again. He hadn’t bothered with the helmet the riders usually seemed to wear and, being tall, had to duck his head to avoid a low beam. Jaron stayed where he was, keeping the bed between him and the balcony, one eye on the open windows should the firedrake return.

  ‘I thought you might like to come and watch Lord Hawke have a ride this morning.’ Flick was standing at Jaron’s shoulder now, having apparently finished his inspection of his room.

  ‘Err, I’m alright, thanks.’

  ‘Well, I thought it might be a chance for you to have a flight down there on Tarp?’

  Jaron tore his gaze away from the window. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’

  ‘I said,’ Flick was frowning at him now, obviously wondering if Jaron was all there, ‘do you want a ride on Tarp? Down to see Lord Hawke fly?’

  Jaron stepped back before he could stop himself. ‘No! I mean, thanks but I’m fine, lots to do, you know, before the race.’

  ‘I thought I heard your trainer give you today off?’

  ‘A half day,’ Jaron corrected, remembering Flick and the other Raken – Val? – had been following them out when they left the dinner last night. He thought quickly. ‘Got to clean my tack and get ready.’

  Flick looked disappointed. ‘That’s a shame. Lord Carna is taking your mother, she seemed quite keen to ride Madrag.’

  What? ‘Madrag?’ Jaron stared at him.

  ‘My lord’s firedrake.’

  ‘My mother is riding Lord Carna’s firedrake?’ Surely, he’s mistaken.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The big red one?’

  Flick cocked his head at him much like his firedrake had done; he was obviously now utterly convinced Jaron was a bit slow. ‘Yes, that’s right. So, you up for it?’

  Jaron knew he wasn’t. But the thought of his mother and Lord Carna being so friendly staggered him. It was obviously Carna making a play for her and Jaron was suddenly determined to be there. She was too spirited for her own good sometimes. Jaron had visions of her being flown off to the Raken mountain city, never to be seen again. Or perhaps she hadn’t wanted to ride the red firedrake but didn’t feel she could refuse the lord of the Raken. Yes, that would be it. Jaron felt a surge of anger. He looked up at Flick, who stood watching him with one eyebrow raised.

  ‘Where is Lord Hawke flying from?’

  ‘The Lake of Ra, there’s a good flying spot on the flattened hill just above it. I think it’s called–’

  ‘Barton Hill,’ Jaron cut in. ‘I’ll see you there.’ He sat on the bed and started to pull on a riding boot.

  ‘But I said I’ll take you.’

  ‘Um, I have to look at the racing track where it cuts out onto the plains – Sprague’s instructions. I’ll be riding a kelpra so I’ll see you there.’

  ‘Oh.’ Flick didn’t seem to believe anyone could pass up the chance of a ride on a firedrake. ‘Well, if you’re sure.’

  ‘I am, thanks.’

  ‘Alright then.’ Flick turned to leave. ‘Doesn’t sound much like a morning off to me though. See you later.’

  Jaron didn’t reply, busy with pulling on the other boot. He heard Flick whistle and looked up to see the young Raken rider standing on the balcony wall. To his amazement, he jumped off – and fell.

  Horrified, Jaron ran in his half hopping gait out onto the balcony. Leaning over, he saw with relief Flick below soaring away on Tarp’s back as the firedrake flew low over the city wall towards the grain barns.

  Jaron shook his head. These Raken were mad, quite mad. He pushed away from the wall and went inside to get his tunic.

  Before long Jaron was trotting away from the yard on Caliber. Tucker, allowed to be alone in the yard for washing out the feed bins, had held Caliber for him as he mounted up, all the while giving Jaron odd looks. Impatient to leave, he had ignored the younger boy’s staring.

  Caliber cantered between fields, bare now as the harvest was finished. Jaron let him stretch his neck in walk for a bit then pushed him on again. Caliber was only too willing; his ears were pricked and Jaron could tell he was enjoying being away from the track for a change. Jaron was grateful Sprague hadn’t been in the yard or he would have questioned why he was riding on his morning off. As it was, Sprague wouldn’t be pleased to have the star ride being ridden without him being present. Jaron was definitely going to get a telling off, but he was willing to face that for his mother’s safety.

  ‘Good boy, Cal.’ Jaron patted the smooth arched neck as they moved into canter.

  He hoped they wouldn’t be stopped by anyone. Not that anyone would dare to get too close and this path out the back of the city was quiet. Caliber’s ebony coat was sliced with thin blue stripes that ran widest across his muscular chest and shoulders but at a distance he looked solid black. Being horse-shaped meant they might just escape notice from afar. It still amazed Jaron the kelpra allowed a rider on their back at all. He smiled to himself. And now, seven months on, here he was; a rider on the favourite entry for the most prestigious race in the Corelands.

  They were galloping around the white-stoned perimeter of the city wall when the Lake of Ra at the back of Tiara came into view. It was a huge lake, and its calm surface mirrored the clear blue sky. Jaron could see Barton Hill to one side of it and he tried to ignore the flip his heart did on seeing the great red beast already there, wings furled. He seemed to almost glow in the sunlight and it served to enhance Jaron’s feeling of misgiving. Along the lake edge stood a few Tiarians clustered into little protective groups, watching the firedrake.

  They were cantering towards the path that ran
around the lake when Caliber jerked up his head, ears flickering back and forth. Next moment, a shadow flashed over them and Jaron instinctively crouched in fear over Caliber’s thick crested neck, looking up in time to see the green firedrake’s pale brown underbelly momentarily blocking out the sun as it flew towards Barton Hill. When the firedrake had passed over it dipped slightly lower over the water and moved its body from side to side, waggling its outstretched wings. It was flying low enough for Jaron to see the bare-headed rider twist round and wave at him: Flick. Jaron gritted his teeth and muttered an oath under his breath. He pushed Caliber on, hearing the low warning rumble the kelpra made as he passed by the people that stood exclaiming. Thankfully, they were far down on the lake bank with their backs to them as they watched the green land, and Jaron was grateful to see the path ahead was empty; he was only too aware how dangerous it could be should someone be silly enough to come too close.

  Heading for the clump of trees at the base of the low hill, Jaron stopped Caliber and slid off. Unclipping the chain (a thicker one this time), about Caliber’s neck, he ran it around the mature oak’s trunk and clipped the other end to the ring on the kelpra’s thick leather headcollar, itself reinforced with an inlay of metal chain-link. It wasn’t really done to leave such a beast unattended, and especially not the city’s main hope for the Great Wake Race but it was another risk Jaron was willing to take for his mother’s sake. He could only hope Caliber would be content after his blow-out to stand still and wait for him. At least they were far enough away from the firedrake watchers. He tested the chain; it should serve the purpose. ‘Wait here Cal, won’t be long,’ he said and patted the kelpra. Caliber blew out through his nose and stepped forward to rend his claws down the trunk. ‘Yes, have a good rake and I’ll be back in a mo.’ Jaron turned and ran, forcing his left hip to keep up in a hopping gait.

  On reaching the base of the hill, he paused. He could see Flick’s green firedrake was landed. Jaron looked back towards Caliber but the blue and black striped kelpra now had both forelegs wrapped around the trunk and was rubbing his chest up and down the bark, showing his fangs in full as he grinned in contentment.

  Jaron took a deep breath to steady his sudden hammering heart and concentrated on getting up the rise of Barton Hill as quickly as he could. His room being on the top floor of the stable tower had stood him in good stead, and although his limp began to feel heavier as he climbed, he was halfway up before he knew it. Jaron deliberately hadn’t been looking up at the firedrake to keep his courage, so he started in surprise when a voice spoke so close.

  ‘Good morning.’

  Lord Carna stood directly in front of him. The Raken’s eyes were a strange light flint, Jaron saw now, and as they stared down at him the boy felt his heart quail under that piercing gaze. Standing slightly further up on the slope only added to the height and size of the Raken lord. His shoulders were broad but his wide chest tapered down to a flat stomach and long legs. By the time Jaron had remembered he was supposed to bow, the man had put out his hand. The boy stared down at it. He was a lord, however, and it wouldn’t do to offend him.

  Reluctantly, he took the offered hand and his own was immediately engulfed. The palm was rough and he winced a little at the strong grip. Carna smiled and Jaron looked away as he removed his hand, suddenly not caring if he was being rude.

  ‘I didn’t mean to startle you, Jaron.’

  Surprised at the use of his name Jaron now saw the lord was studying his face gravely. For just an instant Carna’s gaze shifted down to his neck and up again. Unbidden, Jaron’s hand flew up, his eyes widening when his worst fears were confirmed; in his haste and panic this morning he had forgotten to put on a scarf. Flick must have seen as well, although he had given no indication. No wonder Tucker had stared at him earlier.

  Defiantly, he raised his chin to expose the rippled neck further. Look if you want. Look and see what your beasts can do.

  ‘You’ve come to watch Lord Hawke fly?’ Carna asked, without batting an eyelid. ‘A beautiful day for it.’

  ‘Your rider told me my mother was here. I wanted to make sure she was alright.’

  The Raken lord frowned down at him. ‘Rella is fine. I would not allow any harm to come to her.’

  Now he was calling his mother by name. Jaron glared up at him, lord or no.

  ‘You can trust us Jaron, we are not barbarians.’ Carna turned away to look up the hill.

  Jaron stared, surprised at the remark. He followed Carna’s gaze, saw Rella – and sucked in a sharp breath. His mother was dwarfed by the red beast and standing far too close, right in front of the wide blue scaly chest. He walked past the lord, his eyes raised to his mother. The firedrake turned its head towards them and Rella raised her arm and waved enthusiastically, apparently completely unconcerned that she stood directly under its nose. Jaron broke into an awkward, hopping run, ignoring the pull on the thickened skin as his left hip and thigh were forced to work more. He had to get to her before she lost her arm. What on earth was she thinking? Barton Hill rose more steeply and once he staggered, the muscles in his left leg trembling now beneath him; he wished he had his stick, but he forced himself to keep going.

  ‘Mum!’ he panted as he drew close, eyes on the huge firedrake towering above her.

  ‘I’m glad you’ve come, son,’ she was smiling and looked unharmed, if a little flushed. Without replying he pulled her away from the beast.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he hissed.

  She smiled innocently. ‘I’m enjoying this beautiful sunshine. I did wonder if you were going to laze about in your room all day, but I think the fresh air is doing you good.’

  Jaron stared. Her eyes were shining. It irritated him she could be so unaware of her own safety. ‘You didn’t leave me much choice, did you?’ He was angry now and frightened being this close to the firedrake. The big red looked even bigger out in the open than in the courtyard. Taking his mother’s arm again, he began to pull her further away from the monster.

  She put a cool hand on his to get his attention. ‘Jaron,’ she smiled, ‘it’s fine. You must believe they will not hurt you.’ Her voice was low and soothing.

  ‘How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through! Did he force you, Mum, make you come here?’

  ‘Carna? Of course not!’ His mother pursed her lips.

  ‘I won’t allow you to get on that beast’s back, Mum.’ Jaron kept his voice low.

  She stared at him. ‘I’ve already done it, Jaron, and as you can see I have come to no harm.’

  ‘What?’ Jaron spluttered.

  Carna had now reached the top of the hill and moved to stand beside his beast’s shoulder while he watched them. Flick walked over to join him. Jaron found he didn’t care if they heard or not.

  ‘What did you expect me to think, Mother?’ She knew he only called her that when he was angry. He eyed Tarp lumbering after his rider. ‘I hear you’re riding a firedrake, it has a blue chest. Blue! After all that we went through that night, that terrible…’ He nearly choked on her betrayal and saw his mother’s eyes suddenly moisten.

  ‘Darling Jaron,’ she whispered. ‘I am so sorry to have upset you. All red firedrake have the same blue chest. The captain of the guard told you that when he questioned you, remember?’

  Jaron stared at her, stubborn, angry, and frightened all at the same time.

  ‘But I can assure you Madrag is not a killer.’ She reached out to grasp him by the shoulders. ‘You have to accept the Raken were cleared of any blame and move on, son.’

  ‘Accept them?’ Jaron muttered, incredulous. He roughly shrugged off her hands, ‘you want me to accept…’ He looked up at the firedrake and anything else he was about to say froze on his lips as he saw the huge red beast take a step towards them over her shoulder. It rumbled from deep in its chest and swivelled its great head one way then the other to eye him with its bright yellow eyes half-lidded.

  Jaron quickly stepped around his mother and kept her behind
him as he walked slowly backwards. The beast followed his retreat by stretching out its neck. It lowered its head until its nose was level with his. As he froze and stared in wide-eyed horror it puffed directly into his face and he nearly choked in fear and disgust at the ash smell of its breath. Careful not to make any quick moves, Jaron tried to step further away but behind his back his mother resisted. To his disbelief her hands gripped his shoulders again, this time preventing his escape.

  ‘He will not hurt you,’ she said in his ear, her voice calm now, soothing. ‘Don’t let his size put you off – Madrag has always been a gentle soul with those he likes.’

  Carna moved to his firedrake’s head. ‘No Raken firedrake would harm a human, Jaron, unless it is the case of defending their rider or it is directly under threat itself.’

  Jaron didn’t reply. He felt his mother’s hands squeeze his shoulders. The red blinked its terrible eyes and pulled back, shortening its neck.

  Flick joined them, quickly glancing at his lord. ‘Hey, you made it.’ He was smiling even though he must have witnessed Jaron’s fear. Behind him, his green firedrake huffed. ‘And Tarp greets you too. You’re honoured, it’s not often they take a shine to strangers.’

  Jaron said nothing. His legs felt weak and he didn’t trust himself to speak. Anger was replacing his fear. How could his mother put him through this? He shrugged off her hands and as he turned saw Rella exchange a concerned look with the Raken Lord. Jaron couldn’t understand it. It was as if she was consulting with the man about him. What was anything he did to do with this man? He felt his hands bunch into fists.

  Flick let out a loud sigh. ‘Here he comes, your Lord Hawke.’ The young Raken looked across at his leader, pleading with his eyes.

  ’Let’s get this over with,’ Carna said. ‘It won’t happen again, you have my word on it.’