Dragon Fate

by J. D. Hallowell

  After ensuring that he had a thorough description of their camp and would have no trouble finding them, he bid them farewell and made his way to the market. He added to his supply of herbs and spices, and bought some sweet bread to munch as he wandered among the shops and stalls. He bought a decent-sized cast iron pan with a lid. The pan could be used to either roast or fry foods. Then he kept moving among the vendors. One stall caught his eye, so he stepped under its awning and began examining the goods exhibited there.

  The stall was full of small figurines. Some were done in porcelain, some in rougher clay, some were carved of wood, but the pieces that really caught his eye were carved out of ivory. They were small; any of them could easily fit in the palm of the hand, but finely detailed. Most were of different sea creatures of which he’d only heard tales. Some were of sea creatures he had never even dreamed of. One in particular was of a lovely figure of a female with the torso of a woman and the lower body of a dolphin.

  He had just decided that he needed to conserve his dwindling money when he saw a small set of three knives, just the right sizes for the carvings he liked to work on. “How much for those?” he asked the portly little merchant.

  “Oh, there’s some fine quality steel, sir,” the man said in an oily voice that set Delno’s teeth somewhat on edge. “There’s none finer to be found. Come all the way from the south they do. I couldn’t part with them for less than half a gold crown.”

  “Half a crown!” he said, stepping back as if the case had suddenly caught fire. “Ten whole silvers? They must be more fond of steel in the south than we are here in the north. That’s half a week’s wages for most men.”

  “But sir,” the man purred, “Those blades have to be shipped all the way on the caravans. Surely you can understand the expenses involved.”

  “Expenses or not, I’m sure one of Elom’s advanced apprentices could make a similar set, and it wouldn’t cost me half a crown. I’ll give you three silvers for them.”

  “Three silvers!” the man exclaimed. “If you are going to rob me, sir, you should at least show me the courtesy of drawing your weapon. I couldn’t possibly part with them for less than eight silvers.”

  Warming to the game, Delno responded, “Now who’s being robbed? I’ll give you four silvers.”

  “Seven, and I’ll go no lower.”

  “Call it five and we’ve a deal.”

  “I can appreciate that you know the value of money, so give me six, and we can seal the bargain.” Saying this the little man pushed the pouch containing the blades half way across the table but kept it covered with his palm rather than withdrawing his hand.

  “Done,” said Delno.

  As he opened his belt pouch to get the money, one of his carved figures fell out. The man snatched it up before he could retrieve it.

  “Now this isn’t bad work,” the vendor said. “Did you carve this?”

  When Delno nodded, he said, “You have a knack for carving. This is good.”

  “It’s just something to do when I am not otherwise occupied.”

  “Well,” he said, turning the little figure of a hawk about to take flight this way and that, “If this is the quality of the work you normally do, bring them to me, and I’ll give you a silver for each one.”

  Delno hadn’t been sure why he’d carried the pieces to town, but was now glad he had. He pulled another bird, a bear, and the small image of Chester out of his pouch and showed them to the man, who then agreed to take them all. He was a little reluctant to sell the dog because he had thought about giving it to Nassari, but the merchant was willing to trade the knife set for the four pieces, so he let pragmatism win over sentimentality.

  He was just getting ready to leave the stall after stowing his carving knives away when two southern merchants walked up to the kiosk and began examining the figurines as they talked. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but they weren’t attempting to keep their conversation quiet, so he listened.

  “I tell you, I know what I saw,” said the taller man.

  “You couldn’t have seen such a thing. It must have been a large bird,” said the other.

  “I know the difference between a bird and a dragon. I was raised in a kingdom that is unfortunate enough to have three of those damned beasts in residence,” stated the first with an air of authority.

  “Better watch how you speak of such things, my friend,” the second admonished, “there are many from the south here who would not take kindly to such talk.”

  “Phah, they believe the old children’s tales of benevolent riders who protect the weak. They haven’t lived under thieving riders who fatten their beasts at the expense of poor herders while helping themselves to whatever they want, be it merchandise or women.”

  “Still,” his smaller friend went on, “you’d do well to remember that dragons and riders are still revered in many kingdoms. You could find yourself in a death match if the wrong person over hears you.”

  The tall man made a rude sound, “Those fools from Palamore? That whole kingdom is populated with half-wits, and that king of theirs isn’t even that bright.”

  Making a shushing sound, the smaller man cringed and looked quickly around to see if anyone close by had taken offense.

  The taller man went on unperturbed. “The only thing they care about is that damned sword that was stolen. Stolen right out from under the noses of their elite guards, at that.” He said the words elite guards as though he were talking about something he needed to scrape off the bottom of his shoe. “They’d be better off forgetting the damn thing and getting on with the business of replacing that numbskull king of theirs.”

  The smaller man, eager to change the subject before anyone who might take offense could hear, asked, “So, what makes you think you saw a dragon?”

  “I’ve been bored lately, so I thought I would do some hunting. I was told the undeveloped lands to the north would offer the best prospects, so I took my bow and headed off in that direction. I followed the road for a few miles, then began to look for game trails. I was also watching the sky in case I should spy any likely game birds. I had just stopped to rest when I saw the dragon. I was extremely surprised, and first thought my eyes must be playing tricks. However, it circled a couple of times, giving me ample opportunity to confirm what I had seen. Then it flew very high and soared for almost an hour before returning to the forest. I almost went looking for its landing place, but I’ve heard that wild dragons can be very dangerous, and if it was with a rider, I wanted to have even less to do with it.”

  The two turned and walked away from the awning, and by the time Delno could see that they had resumed their conversation, they were too far away in the crowd to hear what they were saying. He wanted to go after them, but could think of no way to follow them without attracting attention to himself. Since attracting attention was what he wanted to avoid, and, since he and Geneva had already attracted more attention than was good for them, he decided to try and learn more from other, friendlier, sources. He already knew enough: the man had seen Geneva flying, but knew nothing more than a general area where she could be found. It was time to move his camp.

  As he turned to leave, the merchant laughed and leaned toward him conspiratorially, “Dragons is it? More likely he chewed on the wrong mushroom while hunting. I’ll wager that by this evening it will be a dozen dragons.” Then he added with a chuckle, “Probably with golden swans in attendance and a couple of fairy princesses thrown in for good measure.”

  Delno laughed suitably at the merchant’s joke and bid him good day as he started off at a brisk pace. He had one more thing to buy, and then he’d get out of town as quickly as he could. He’d spent more than enough time in Larimar for one afternoon. Also, he was going through more money than he really should without knowing how much he would need when he headed south soon. He took some comfort in the knowledge that this carving skill he had developed could earn him a few honest coins if needed.

  He was anxious to get to the caravan fr
om Palamore, so, after stopping at a bowyer and buying a new re-curved bow and quiver of arrows, he left the city. As he got through the gates, he decided to try and contact Geneva. He wasn’t sure he could do so from this far away, but he could still feel her presence in his mind, so it was worth a try.

  As he strapped his purchases onto his horse, he reached out to her, “Geneva, can you hear me, Dear Heart?”

  “Yes, quite well, are you near?” came her reply.

  “No, I am just leaving the city gates.”

  “Then you will return soon?” She sounded happy at the prospect.

  “Not as soon as I’d like,” he told her. “Something has come up, and I must stop at one of the camped caravans and make some inquiries.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” she said flatly. “If there is trouble, I can come to you.”

  “No, that’s part of the trouble, Dear Heart, you’ve been seen, by one who is familiar with your kind.”

  “Familiar?” she replied.

  “Yes, familiar enough to know a dragon when he sees one, and he’s not favorably disposed to dragons or riders from what I could gather.”

  “Not favorably disposed? And you’re going to meet him? Why not just walk into a bear’s den? It might be quicker for both of us. I should come to you.”

  “NO!” He looked around quickly, realizing that he had shouted that out loud as well as mentally. There were a few people near the hitching posts, but they assumed the horse had done something wrong and paid no further attention, so he quickly went on. “Please, stay put. I am not going to meet that man. I am going to meet some men from Palamore. Since they are favorably disposed to dragons and riders, and since we must go there anyway, I am hoping to arrange to travel with them.”

  “I would still feel better if we were together,” she said.

  “So would I, but that isn’t wise right now. Please, Dear Heart, stay and watch the camp and I will be back soon, hopefully with good news. When I return, I will tell you everything.”

  “Very well, but I don’t like it.”

  “I don’t like it either, but that’s the way it is. Please, be patient, watch our possessions, and take special care not to be seen,” he implored. “I’ll let you know the minute I start back to camp.”

  “Very well, but be careful, Dear One.” Her voice betrayed her concern.

  Chapter 19

  As Delno approached the camped caravan, he noticed that their horses were kept in a makeshift corral, so he moved toward them. Seeing an older lad of about sixteen tending the horses, he raised his hand in greeting, and, smiling, he approached. The boy seemed a bit wary. Delno spoke as he got near him, “I’m here to speak with Farrel or Cheeno. May I tie my horse here?”

  The lad looked a bit uncomfortable, but shrugged his shoulders and said, “I’ll have to ask the chief handler; I’m just a hired hand.”

  The boy then went off around a nearby wagon and was gone for several moments. He returned on the heels of a man who was probably twenty years older than Delno. The man walked right up to him, extended his hand and said, “I’m Willy, Chief Animal Handler for this outfit.”

  Delno reached out to return the handshake and the older man grasped his forearm just above the wrist. It felt a little strange, but Delno returned the gesture and the man smiled and shook his arm gently. “I’m Delno Okonan,” he said. Apparently there would be some new customs he would have to get used to in the south.

  Willy walked to Delno’s horse and looked him over while he spoke. “Nigel tells me you’re visiting and would like to tie your horse with ours.”

  Delno waited a moment to see if the man would continue speaking, but Willy just opened the horse’s mouth and looked inside.

  “Well, yes,” he said. “I’m just here to talk with Farrel and Cheeno and would like to make sure that my horse has fresh water.” When that got no reaction, he added quickly, “They’re expecting me, and I can pay for hitching the horse.”

  Willy stiffened and said with some formality, “I guess customs are different around here concerning such things, so I’ll take no offense, but we from the south don’t expect payment from guests.”

  Delno quickly apologized, “I meant no offense, certainly, I just didn’t want to put anyone to any trouble on my account.”

  The southerner looked at him for a moment, then his smile returned and he said, “No offense taken. Different kingdoms, different customs. You’d think after traveling with caravans for over twenty years I’d get used to it.” He then began lifting the horse’s feet and checking them. “No offense, Delno, but I have to make sure that your horse isn’t carrying something that will cause problems for mine.”

  “No offense taken. I do my best to take good care of him, but I’m not a professional handler. I appreciate you looking him over.”

  Willy, finishing with his inspection of the horse, appeared pleased with the compliment. He turned to Nigel and said, “Take the gentleman’s gear off of his horse and put the horse in the small corral where there’s fresh hay and water. Stow his gear in my wagon.” Then to Delno he said, “When you’re ready to leave, just find Nigel, or whichever boy is on duty, and they’ll get you saddled up and ready to travel.” He turned to leave, then stopped, and, remembering his manners, he again clasped Delno’s forearm in the southern style and said, “Good to meet you,” then turned and left without another word.

  Delno retrieved the bundle with the Dragon Blade, but left the rest for Nigel to stow in the wagon. He stood staring around at the camp. The wagons were huge: Delno had seen apartments in the city that were smaller. “That must be why they need so many animals; it would take at least eight large draft oxen to haul one of those behemoths just on dry road,” he thought. The whole camp was laid out like a small town. He looked around to ask Nigel where he might find the men he was looking for and discovered that he was completely alone. Apparently, Nigel was an extremely efficient lad.

  Delno decided that wandering toward the center of camp would probably be best. After all, even if he didn’t find Farrel or Cheeno, he was sure to find someone who could point him in the right direction. Turning thought to action, he strode off in what he hoped was the right way. He walked past several wagons. Most of them appeared to be a combination of living quarters and cargo vehicle. The living quarters on most of the vehicles had canvas sides that were raised like awnings to shade the interiors while allowing air to circulate freely.

  He was starting to enjoy this look at a culture so different than the one in which he grew up. Thus, with his mind occupied in such peaceful surroundings, the attack was totally unexpected. There was a fierce growl as a large dog lunged at him out of one of the wagons. Even though his bond with Geneva had heightened his reflexes slightly, his reaction, while quick enough to save his hide, didn’t save his tunic. The ferocious dog clamped down on the material and shook it, ripping the clothing right off of his body. As he stepped back, he lost his footing and fell. He rolled, both to protect his throat and to get leverage to leap up to deal with the dog. The dog, however, was quicker than he thought; it jumped on his back and started to go for his unprotected neck.

  There were shouts from several people at once. One older man hobbled over, and, swearing at the dog, grabbed it by the collar and pulled it back before it sunk its teeth into Delno’s flesh. A middle-aged man with an air of authority swore at the older man, “Damn it all, Jared, I’ve told you to keep that mutt tied when there’s apt to be visitors about.”

  “Well, what are ‘visitors’ doing wandering around? They shouldn’t be allowed in camp,” the old man spit out defiantly.

  “Right,” the first man said, “Not allowing visitors into camp would be a great way to encourage trade, now wouldn’t it?” Then he added, “You damned old fool. Just tie that dog before I stick a boar spear through it. I’ve had all the trouble out of that animal I’m going to tolerate.” Then he added in a quiet voice that left no doubt who was in charge, “If that dog of yours causes any
more problems for this caravan, you’ll either put it down, or go your own way. Understand?”

  The old man didn’t say anything, but the look on his face was more fear than defiance. The other man took that as an affirmative and turned to Delno.

  “Here, now, let’s get you back on your feet,” he said, and, reaching down, he grabbed Delno’s arm and hauled him up.

  As Delno stood, everyone went silent and stared slack-jawed at him. More precisely, they stared at his right shoulder. He looked to see, wondering if perhaps the dog had injured him and he hadn’t felt it. As he looked just above his right breast, he realized he had completely forgotten about the dragon mark. He had been bathing in the wee hours of the morning or late at night and hadn’t looked at it in the light in almost two weeks. It was now about two hands wide and about the same height, and looked like a tattoo of a bronze dragon standing on her hind legs, wings extended, ready for flight, only a little blurry around the edges.

  “Well,” he thought, “The cat, or should I say dragon, is out of the bag now.”

  He was just about to apologize for disrupting the camp when Farrel stepped through the crowd and said, “I suppose introductions are in order.” He waited for a moment. Then, since no one moved or shifted their gaze, he went on, “This is Delno Okonan,” he said to those assembled. Then turning to Delno he introduced the middle aged man, “This is the Caravan Master, Roland Moreland.”

  Delno, embarrassed and keenly aware of his lack of a shirt, extended his hand. The Caravan Master took his forearm in the southern style and shook. It was still a moment before he could find his voice, when he finally did he said, “My apologies, Rider. This incident should never have happened. I’ll see that damn dog destroyed for this.”

  Delno was taken aback by the respect, near reverence, and by the oath to destroy the dog. He said, “Apology accepted, though it isn’t really necessary.” Then, glancing at the stricken face of the old man he added, “Please don’t destroy the dog; I’m sure it only thought it was protecting its property from a stranger.”