Dragon Fate

by J. D. Hallowell

  Delno was surprised at the man’s reaction. The other Rider’s face fell and he just stood staring for a long moment. Then he hung his head and said, “Then it’s true; Corolan is dead.” It wasn’t a question. Then he looked back up at Delno and said, “I’m sorry. I knew through my dragon that it was so, but I didn’t want to believe it without proof. Since Geneva wouldn’t carry her mother’s name if Corolan and his dragon were still alive, I can deny it no longer.” Then, still clasping arms with Delno, almost as if he needed the support, he drew a deep breath and sighed before continuing, “I am Brock Ard, and she,” he indicated the blue dragon, “is my Partner, Leera. Leera is a daughter of Geneva’s mother, and I was a student and good friend of Corolan.” Then he looked around as if remembering the crowd, “We have much to talk about, but perhaps it would be better if we did so with a smaller audience.”

  At that point, Winston stepped forward. The Senior Sergeant was nearly beside himself that the man had stepped out of the protective ring of soldiers. The Captain said, “Yes, Delno, we have much to discuss. Perhaps we can move this conversation to the relative privacy my office at the garrison?”

  Delno smiled sheepishly at the officer and then raised one eyebrow at the Rider in inquiry. The other man nodded his approval, and they each turned to their dragon.

  “Geneva, you were very brave standing up to that older dragon like that. You were also very rash. That situation could have gone very badly if she had decided to attack,” he said.

  “That is why I threatened her rider instead of her,” she responded. “I landed so close that even if she had flamed me I would still be able to kill her rider and therefore her. It presented a standoff so that they would have to settle the situation by talking rather than fighting.”

  Knowing that the argument would get him nowhere at this point, and wanting to talk with the other Rider, he said, “Very well, but we aren’t at odds now, so relax and don’t insult her.”

  “Her? What about her insulting me? I’ll give her ‘youngster.’ ”

  “Please, Dear Heart, we may have an opportunity to get some real training here. Besides, she is your older sister.”

  Geneva snorted and said, “Very well, for the sake of training I will try to be nice.”

  Delno found that the other Rider, and everyone else, was waiting for him, so, he patted Geneva affectionately on the snout, and they all moved off in the direction of the garrison. When they reached the compound, the soldiers, at the Captain’s orders, turned and barred the way, stopping everyone until Delno spoke up and told them to allow Nat and Pearce through. At a nod from Winston, the soldiers let the physicians accompany them. The Governor was quite put out by this, since no one seemed to feel that his presence was necessary, and he was left standing outside the garrison with the rest of the crowd.

  Chapter 31

  They all waited until the two young boys who served as orderlies filled everyone’s glass with wine. Then the Captain raised his glass and said, “Welcome, Rider, to this outpost.”

  Everyone sipped their drinks. Brock turned to Delno and said, “I would very much like to hear how you came to be a Rider, and how you came to be here.”

  “Yes,” Winston agreed, “That must be an interesting tale. One that I’m sure you would have gotten around to telling your friends here at the garrison eventually.”

  Delno felt like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He looked around at the faces in the room, and found that the officers and sergeants of the garrison were looking back with expressions like they felt betrayed. He was glad that he had insisted that Nat and Pearce be allowed in; otherwise he wouldn’t have any moral support what so ever.

  He drew a deep breath and then began retelling his story from the beginning. Since, this time, he had to stop at certain points and answer questions during the telling, it took more than two hours and several glasses of wine to finish. When he had finished, the Rider plied him with even more questions, and, after making sure he knew every detail of Corolan’s death that Delno knew, he seemed particularly interested in the Dragon Blade.

  “So, tell me,” Brock asked, “Why did you decide not to carry your Dragon Blade? Is it safe where you are keeping it?”

  “To the first,” Delno replied, “I didn’t think it was a good idea to reveal myself as a Rider, which the blade would have done; especially since I’m only technically a Rider because, up until this point, Geneva has been too young to ride.” Then he turned to both officers, and both sergeants, and offered as an apology, “I was afraid that making the presence of an immature dragon common knowledge could put us, and therefore our new friends, in danger. I felt it was best to keep it a secret at least until Geneva and I started flying together. I didn’t want to cause you and your men any trouble; you’ve all been so good to me.”

  Winston smiled and the other men nodded in satisfaction at the explanation. The other Rider said, “From the look of Geneva today, I’d say she was ready to carry a rider. If she is as young as you say, then your bond must indeed be strong. We’ll have to get you into the air soon.”

  Delno was delighted to hear this and started to respond, but Brock was quicker, “Now about that Dragon Blade. . . . ?” he prompted.

  “Oh, yes,” Delno replied, “it is hidden at Nathaniel’s house.”

  The other Rider was a bit perturbed, “It isn’t under lock and key?” he asked incredulously.

  To everyone’s surprise, it was Nat who replied, “Nonsense, man, the quickest way to advertise that you have something worth stealing is to go to great pains to lock it up. My home doesn’t even have locks on the doors; therefore, no thief in his right mind would even suspect that there is anything inside worth taking.”

  ‘Very well,” Brock conceded reluctantly, “I accept that the blade is safe. Now that it is widely known that you are a Rider, though, there is no further need for you to hide. You should start wearing the sword.”

  Delno shrugged, seeing no reason to argue with the older Rider, though he did wonder that the man was so obsessed with the Dragon Blade. While it was an incredible blade, it had no special powers that Delno had yet discovered.

  Brock then said to everyone, “The day wears on and Delno and I still have much to do. So, if you will excuse us, we will be about it.”

  Delno was about to object, but Winston spoke up, “Yes, this has all been very interesting, but we are still a working garrison. Another patrol needs to be organized and sent out, and I must see to it. The bandits around here won’t give us a holiday simply because we’ve met some new friends and wish to spend the day drinking wine.”

  Everyone suddenly seemed to remember that they had lives to get back to, and, now that the excitement of meeting the new Rider was ebbing, they should be about their normal activities. Nat said to the Riders from the doorway, “When you two are finished and ready for food, please join us for dinner this evening; I’ll tell Missus Gentry to prepare for extra company.” Then he left without another word; Pearce left with him.

  Delno left the office and went to Nat’s home, at Brock’s request, and retrieved his Dragon Blade before joining the other Rider outside the city gates.

  “You may want to start strapping that to your back instead of carrying it on your hip,” Brock said by way of greeting. Then he added, “I find that it makes it easier to draw while mounted.” Then, reaching out he said, “Let me see the blade.”

  Delno was a bit taken aback by the man’s gruff manner but handed him the Dragon Blade.

  “A saber, hmm,” he said, “Well, to each his own. A saber’s a good general blade. Heavy enough to turn the stroke of a larger sword and still light enough to be fast. I prefer a long sword myself. Still, the work on the guard is exquisite, and you say he made you a dagger to go with it?”

  Delno handed him the main gauche.

  After examining it, Brock shook his head and said, “There’s more than just craftsmanship in that work; the man puts so much of himself in his art that it’s a ty
pe of magic. I can feel it; the blades nearly sing with it.”

  Delno looked at the blade on Brock’s back. It was indeed a long sword, and, while finely made, it was of steel, not a Dragon Blade. Brock laughed at his scrutiny and said, “No, I don’t carry a Dragon Blade myself. I was bonded in the normal way; stood in a circle with several other lads, all of us shaking in our shoes, and waited for her to choose.” He reached up and patted Leera’s snout affectionately. “She didn’t have much of a choice, I’m afraid; most of the other lads were useless. They were only included in the circle because their fathers were influential in the city, so it was either me or that pimply-faced baker’s son.”

  “I might have chosen him, too; he had a good mind and good heart, if only he hadn’t been so ugly.” Leera teased.

  Brock and Delno both laughed, then Delno asked, “So tell me, why all the fuss over the Dragon Blades? I mean, I know they are virtually indestructible, but they have no other magical powers that I’ve found. Why all the bother?”

  “You really are uneducated about all of this, aren’t you?” Brock responded. Then before Delno could speak out in offense, he added, “I’m sorry, I forget that I’m not training some boy who’s just bonded with a hatchling. You and Geneva have done quite well for yourselves, all things considered, but you still have a lot to learn, and you’d do well to just pay attention when someone with nearly five hundred years of experience is willing to teach you.”

  Delno quelled his irritation and listened.

  “The Dragon Blades are not magical in the sense that most people think of the word; they don’t ignite flammable materials on contact or some such nonsense,” he said. “The female who makes one uses magic to do it, otherwise the fire she uses during the process would just cook the baby dragon inside its shell when she breathes on it; however, the magic doesn’t stop there. During the process, the magic protects the un-hatched dragon. After the hatching a small measure of that protection is passed on to the bearer of the blade.”

  He looked Delno in the eye and said; “You said the Dragon Blade that had been stolen from Palamore was a long sword, right?” At Delno’s nod, he continued, “Ever wonder why you got a saber and not another long sword?”

  “I supposed that it was because I was carrying a saber. I assumed that she made the blade in the likeness of the one she saw that I already had.”

  Brock snorted, “Assume makes an ‘Ass’ of ‘U’ and ‘me,’” he said. “Assume nothing when dealing with dragons or magic, and when dealing with both together be especially careful to verify your assumptions.” He paused to let that register before he went on, “The female who makes the Dragon Blade lets the magic connect to the Rider she is making the Blade for and the magic shapes the blade to his specifications. You are most comfortable with a saber, so that is the blade you got, but it was the choice of the magic, not the dragon.”

  After a pause, Brock resumed the lesson; “That Dragon Blade is so special because, like the dragon herself, it is bonded to you. In my hands, the blade would certainly be more effective than it would be in the hands of just anyone else: mostly because I’ve had nearly half a millennium to practice, but also because I am a Dragon Rider. The magic suffused into the blade would recognize that and react accordingly. In your hands, the hands of the Rider it was made for, it will nearly come alive. In your hands, it will have the power to break steel, or even penetrate the scales of a dragon. Your dragon-enhanced abilities may not make you superhuman, but that blade should give you an edge over a normal one whenever you use it.”

  Delno looked at the blade, turning it over and over in the sunlight. It didn’t shine like polished steel, but it gleamed with a luster that seemed almost alive. When he concentrated on it, he realized that it felt very similar to the way the magic shield wall had felt. He smiled.

  “Don’t get cocky,” Brock said sharply. “That blade may give you a small advantage in a fight, but so does real time spent on a practice pitch. The two things that can always offset a magical advantage are skill and luck. You can prepare for the one by spending your own time practicing. The other, well, it’s best to keep your wits about you, especially when luck seems to be favoring your opponent.”

  “One last thing about Dragon Blades, and then we’re through with that lesson for now. The second thing that makes a Dragon Blade so special, and perhaps the most important, is that it is a symbol of great power and authority. That’s why they are so carefully guarded, and why the blade in Palamore was stolen.”

  Delno started to open his mouth to say something, but Brock held up his hand to forestall any further discussion. “We’ve spoken enough about swords today. It’s almost noon and I want to get you into the air, and now is as good a time as any.”

  “Is Geneva ready? I don’t want her harmed.”

  “Man, have you really looked at that dragon lately?” Brock responded. “While I do have to admit that Leera is slightly smaller than the average female dragon, she is still plenty large, and Geneva is nearly a match for her in size.”

  Delno did look then and was amazed. Geneva was standing near Leera, and he was astonished to see that she was so close in size to her older sister that the difference was moot. He said to Brock, “I guess I haven’t really looked at her lately. I see what you mean.”

  The older Rider had been rummaging through his pack and was holding two blankets and a coil of rope. “You don’t have a proper saddle, so we’ll have to make do with these. Give me a hand.” Saying that, he began folding the blankets into large triangles. Then he tied the triangles together and told Delno to ask Geneva to lower herself as much as possible. Delno had worried that she would balk at the other man’s gruff manner and at having the makeshift saddle tied on, but she eagerly complied. She was so anxious to fly with him riding that she was having trouble sitting still. Eventually the rig was secured and he was ready to mount.

  Brock looked him over and said, “Those clothes are a bit light, but we won’t be flying high today, so they should be all right, but you need to understand that it gets cold as you gain altitude. Even on a hot summer day, you’ll need a winter coat when you start getting a mile or more up into the sky.”

  Delno was nearly dumbstruck. He hadn’t thought about how high dragons could fly. He had simply ‘assumed’, there was that word again, that they wouldn’t fly so high that he would need any special riding gear.

  At Brock’s direction, he used Geneva’s front leg as a step and climbed up into position just as he had with the dragon’s mother only a few short weeks ago. Brock had left the ends of the rope long on either side and now used those ends to tie around Delno’s thighs to prevent him from accidentally falling off in flight. He said, “You’ll want to use straps, even in normal flight, at least until you get used to flying. I’ve been doing this a long time and still strap myself on, though I prefer to use a safety rig that attaches to my belt rather than tying around my legs for normal flying. I find it more comfortable on a long flight, but others don’t; it’s a matter of personal preference.”

  Then Brock mounted Leera and said, “One last thing before we get airborne: the winds in the air are different than the winds here on the ground. Sometimes they can hit at an odd angle and cause the dragon to tumble, which can make you drop like a stone. If that should happen, don’t panic, and don’t try to help her figure it out; just lie down as flat as you can over her neck and keep quiet. Let her natural instincts take over and you’ll be fine.”

  Geneva sank down on her haunches and said, “Brace yourself, Dear One,” then shifting to full voice, she yelled, “Here we go!”

  She gave a mighty push with her back legs as her wings beat downward. Delno’s head snapped back on his shoulders with the force of the takeoff. Then he noticed that the walls of the city seemed to be falling away from them as they rose higher. He looked around and saw that the trees were getting smaller also, and still they climbed into the sky. Geneva wasn’t speaking to him, but he was aware of her elation, both at flyi
ng and at finally having him riding with her.

  He called out above the wind roaring in his ears, “This is wonderful! It’s everything I’d hoped it would be!”

  Delighted at his encouragement, she surged even higher, then her demeanor changed slightly and she said, “Leera and Brock say that I have flown high enough and that we need to make some maneuvers and then return to the ground.”

  Delno could sense her desire to disobey the directives and said, “We need to listen to them, Dear Heart, they have a great deal more experience then we do. There’ll be many more hours of flying for us in the future; we don’t need to do it all at once.”

  “But I want to do it all at once,” she said mischievously. “This is what I was made for; but you are right, there will be plenty of time.”

  Brock and Leera then put them through some basic maneuvers before finally telling them to land. Geneva glided down and landed quite gently almost in the exact spot from where they had taken off. Delno unstrapped himself and then removed the improvised harness from Geneva, paying close attention to how it was rigged.

  “Good first flight,” Brock said as he approached. “Now help me get the saddle off of Leera, then you can carry my pack to our quarters.”

  Delno stared at the man. Finally, he said, “Your quarters? I didn’t know you had quarters here in the city.”

  Either Brock was much denser than Delno suspected, or he was being deliberately thick. “Oh, I’ll be staying with you, and Leera will find herself a nice clearing.”

  “Don’t you think that you should first check with Nat? It is his house after all.”

  “If there isn’t room, I’ll take your bed.” The man was so full of himself.

  “My bed?” Delno asked. “You’re rather sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Look, Delno, I have decided to stay and spend some of my time teaching you and Geneva. It’s customary that you ensure that your teacher has a bed and food. I’m not asking you for the world, and if your funds are too low to provide for me, I will pay my own way. All I ask for in return is simple respect.” There was no humor in the older Rider’s voice, but there was no belligerence in his eyes either.