The Dragons of Fyre

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by The Dragons of Fyre


  Sofona smiled. “Then I’m glad we brought two more barrows. The snow fall is heavy.”

  Arana saw that more than a foot of snow had fallen. The shoveled path from the tower was rapidly filling. What would they do if they were snowed in?

  Radlan must have seen the panic in her expression. “Do not worry. Sofona and I will keep the path clear.”

  Drakon took the shovel Sofona held. “I’ll keep this one here. Arana and I can work from this end.”

  “You’ll cut into your rest time,” Sofona said.

  “I know but we do what we must.”

  Sofona pointed to a pair of jugs on top of the barrow. “I mixed more of the scented oil. You’ll need to treat the dragonet’s hides after each feeding, especially when they’re growing so rapidly.”

  Arana covered her mouth with her hand. Guilt assaulted her. “I forgot. We need to do that now. I remember how Verde cried when his skin split.” She grabbed Drakon’s hand.

  Sofona patted Arana’s shoulder. “I don’t think one missed oiling will harm the creatures.” She stepped back. “Do not worry about what you haven’t done. Only about what you must do.”

  “I know but I’m not sure we’ll manage to remember everything.”

  Sofona hugged her. “You will.” She turned and followed the path Radlan cleared.

  Drakon propped the shovel inside the cavern mouth. “We should clear the path between each feeding at least part of the way to the tower.”

  Arana nodded. “And oil the dragons, mix the next feeding, wash and maybe sleep.”

  “Do we need to oil them after each feeding?”

  “When you see how rapidly they grow you’ll understand why. If their skin splits they’ll cry with pain. The Old One and Verde don’t need oiling as often but we need to check their hides for splits or abraded areas.” She carried the jugs to the larger one and emptied their contents. She checked to see if there were enough rags.

  Drakon took her hand. “We should rest until they wake us squawking for more food.”

  “I want to check Verde and the Old One first.”

  *We need nothing.* The Old One’s voice boomed. *As long as we have our feedings we’ll be fine.”

  *But Sofona said you should be oiled once a day.*

  The Old One chuckled. *Unless we’re flying, once a week is enough. She was alone with me and an injured Radlan. She fussed over him and hindered his recovery so I diverted her by scratching my pelt. She knew about the oil for the dragons so she oiled me every day and Radlan used the time to recover.*

  *I like the oil,* Verde said.

  Arana reached for a rag. *I’ll oil you.*

  *You will not and Verde will remain silent,* the Old One commanded.

  Arana walked to the sleeping place and lay down. All too soon the cries of the dragonets woke her. She shook Drakon. “Time for another feeding.”

  He groaned. “I hear them but I’d rather sleep.”

  “So would I but they call.”

  * * * *

  Verde crouched as low as he could manage and crept toward the sleeping dragonets. No matter what Arana said he couldn’t believe he had ever been that small or woke so many times squawking for food. He hovered over the pair and lowered his head. He sniffed the blue and noticed how close the dragonets were to the sleeping place of Arana and Drakon.

  His attention centered on the red. In three bites he could eat her. For a time he considered the possibility. How would she taste? In tales of olden days the Old One said dragons had eaten the new ones. Was her hide tough? Would she hear him on the speaker’s path and wake Arana. He snorted. Arana was his.

  *Why don’t you take a flight?* the Old One said.

  *How can I leave? What if she bites Arana? I must be here to protect my friend.*

  *She will not harm Arana.* the yellow put a paw on Verde’s tail. *I said for you to take a flight.*

  An uncomfortable feeling stirred in Verde’s thoughts. *Why are you going to hurt me?*

  *I am not. I believe you suffer from envy and jealousy. After all, Arana was your friend before Roja hatched.*

  *She was and she is.*

  *Do you have the conditions mentioned?*

  Verde sighed. *Maybe. Arana is always too tired to talk to me. The red will not let her sleep. The red’s noises and the ones the blue makes hurt my head. Then I want to bite.*

  *Sometimes their noise bothers me. Then I remember that for ten years I had no speaker. I called and no one answered. There were those who heard me in their dreams but never believed what they heard was real. Drakon came. He told Sofona and Radlan what I needed.*

  *Life must have been lonely for you. I have always had Arana. Now I must share. I do not like sharing.*

  *Remember this. The red and blue live for about twenty years. You will live a hundred or more, long enough to see Arana’s children and grandchildren.*

  A shiver rushed through Verde. How long would Arana live? He did not ask. He did not want to hear the answer. He rose from his crouch. *I will fly and I will hunt. Maybe I can catch another deer. The last one was tasty.*

  The Old One chuckled. *That it was. You might share a few bites with the dragonets.*

  *Why? Arana and Drakon feed them good food. They don’t need what I catch for us.*

  *When they fly they will hunt. If you do not share now, they might not want to share then.*

  Verde sank to all fours and thought about what the Old One had said. *I will share the deer and Arana though I would rather not.” He lumbered to the mouth of the cavern and minced across the snow-covered forecourt.

  * * * *

  Drakon yawned and stretched. He splashed icy water on his face. The dragonets were in their third week. He worried about the strength of his bonding with the blue. As yet, his dragon hadn’t returned any of his greetings. Both Verde and the Old One swore the speaker’s path was open but the dragonet couldn’t or wouldn’t speak to him.

  Perhaps the fault was his. The idea troubled him. Maybe the only dragons open to him were the Old One and Verde. Maybe among the far kin in the village was a speaker the blue preferred.

  He watched the dragonets amble to the feeding trough. Already the red and blue were much larger than Verde and the Old One. One good thing had finally occurred. Since yesterday the pair waited for their feedings instead of issuing shrill demands. Their warbles were almost melodious.

  Arana pushed a barrow toward the feeding trough. Though six hours had passed between feedings and they now had time for a few hours sleep, she looked as tired as he felt. He yearned for time alone, time without the constant presence of dragons and Arana. Three more days, he thought.

  He dashed to the cold cave and wheeled a barrow of meat to where the blue waited. He emptied the meat and stepped back. “I’ll never last.”

  Arana looked up. “There is no choice. The dragons need this time so they know your voice, your scent and your touch.”

  “As long as they don’t want to know how I taste.”

  *Why not?* Verde asked. *I could take a tiny bite and tell everyone how you taste.*

  *No thanks. Sometimes you’re as silly as the dragonets.” Drakon laughed.

  *When you laugh you do not sound tired. I will find a way to make you do that more.*

  Drakon shook his head. “I’m still tired.”

  Arana looked at him. “Just think how tired a woman with a new baby feels. An infant’s need for care lasts for years not weeks.”

  “Most women have a husband to help.”

  “If he will but a man’s not equipped to feed one.”

  He held up his hands in mock surrender. “At least a baby isn’t as large as a dragonet or eats as much.”

  Arana nodded. “How true.”

  Drakon’s thoughts became infused with images of women and babies. When a picture of a nursing mother brought to mind how the priestesses had offered their breasts for him to suckle, he felt his face grow hot. The urge to fondle Arana’s breasts and touch them with his tongue and han
ds arose. He would bring her pleasure and her cries of pleasure would fill him with pride.

  How astonishing. All the times he’d serviced the priestesses in the harras he had never cared about her reactions. That had been his duty.

  The blue growled. *Hungry. More meat.*

  Drakon stared at the dragon. *You can talk.*

  *Want more meat.*

  Drakon hurried to fill another barrow. He turned and added more chunks to the trough. The blue snatched piece after piece as fast as Drakon worked. When the second barrow was empty, Drakon washed his hands and began the job of oiling the dragonet. *Crouch so I can reach your back. Why didn’t you speak to me before?*

  *I had nothing to say.*

  *And you do now?*

  *Verde said I should listen and talk to you.*

  *I’m glad. I was worried.* Drakon used a cloth to rub the spice-scented oil into the dragon’s leathery hide. When he finished, the blue collapsed.

  *Sleep now.*

  *Not here,* Drakon said. *Go to your wallow.”

  The blue made his way to the sand. He burrowed and made sounds resembling snores.

  Drakon chuckled. *Verde, thank you for telling him to speak to me.*

  *He is stubborn but he listens. He wanted to wait until he knew all the words the Old One knows. I told him that would never happen if he didn’t speak with you.*

  Drakon stripped and stepped into the warm water of the pool. After swimming to the ledge he washed and rinsed. He lay on a float made from hollow reeds and waited for Arana. Wavelets eddied around and over him.

  “Drakon, wake up before you drown.”

  With a start he opened his eyes. The float edged under the waterfall. Water poured on him. He flailed and swallowed a mouthful. He coughed and choked. The float bobbed away. Once he caught his breath he pushed his hair back and climbed onto the ledge. He grabbed a length of toweling and wrapped it around his waist. “Thanks.” He staggered to the cots.

  “Are you all right?” Arana asked.

  “Exhausted.” He sprawled face down on the mat.

  Arana knelt beside him. He felt a rush of desire that dissolved beneath the rolling waves of sleep. When he woke he found Arana had moved her cot next to his. She pressed against his back. How long had he slept? For once he felt rested. He sat on the edge of the cot. A roar of laughter erupted.

  Arana sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What?”

  “Look at the dragonets.” The red and blue marched behind Verde. As they trod in a circle their unfurled wings moved up and down in a simulation of flight. Drakon choked back his laughter. *Old One, what are they doing?*

  *Verde is their controller. They learn to obey and follow. Also the exercise strengthens their wings for flight. One of his duties is to train the dragonets as quickly as possible. Though his methods are unusual I believe they will work. The pair will be in flight before winter ends.*

  Drakon turned to Arana. “How did Verde learn to fly?”

  “Mostly through instinct and observation. He would creep from his pen to watch the blues and reds fly. He had to take his own flights at night or risk being discovered.”

  The Old One lowered his head. *We are fortunate Verde is bright and absorbs instructions easily. Some greens follow their teacher’s methods and never seek new ways. Verde’s curiosity and inventiveness are to our advantage.*

  Drakon rested against the yellow’s side. *If the green is the controller of the red and the blue, what is the role of the speakers? Why are people like Arana and I needed?*

  Laughter caused the dragon’s body to vibrate. *Though Verde has control when the dragons fly, the speakers name the destination and guide the dragons so they do not harm others. Verde would bite anyone who displeased him. When Arana says he cannot act that way he listens.*

  Arana sat beside Drakon. “The Old One speaks the truth. So many times Verde wanted to bite Lagon. That would have meant his death and my punishment. He listened when I said he couldn’t bite people.”

  Drakon stroked the Old One’s leathery hide. *Tell us more.*

  *Once the dragons are in flight with riders on their backs, ones who bear no taint of fyrethorn berry tea, the rider will give the destination. The green will read the winds and choose the path. The dragons will become companions rather than beasts to be used. Before the wizards of Fyre grew powerful dragons contested for hunting grounds. Those evil men caused the dragons to flee their lands.*

  Drakon absorbed what the yellow said. *Is everyone who drinks the tea tainted?*

  *Those who develop headaches can be cured if they are given the poison of the thorns. That is one of the ingredients of the antidote used to wake the speakers.*

  Drakon turned to Arana. “Did you know that?”

  “About the antidote, yes.”

  “Could that be why the thorns or the berries don’t bother us now?” Drakon closed his eyes. So the punishment of the priestesses had freed him from his reaction to the tea. Instead those actions had enslaved him in a different way. He yawned. Why did he feel tired again?

  *You and Arana will have more time to rest now.*

  *Radlan and I must begin making the saddles.*

  *Not yet,* the Old One said. *Until the dragonets complete their growth and have their first few flights the saddles will not be needed.*

  *How much longer?*

  *Perhaps a month. You must be patient.*

  Drakon thought about what the Old One said. Though the straps that fastened the saddles to the dragon’s back could be adjusted, the space between the spinal ridges would continue to change. He rose and went for a barrow of meat. He began to fill the trough.

  *Man, I want a name.*

  Drakon stared at the blue. *I am Drakon.*

  *I know. Who am I?*

  For several moments Drakon studied the dragon. The pale blue hide had darkened and brightened to the color of the summer sky. *Your name is Azure.*

  *That is a strong name.*

  *It’s another name for the color of your hide.*

  *Verde said I am a dragon. Your name sounds like what I am.*

  *So it does.* The change in Azure’s speech pleased Drakon.

  *I will eat and bathe in the lake. Then you can make my hide smooth and smell good.*

  *Sounds like a good plan.*

  *Will you swim with me?*

  *Yes.*

  Azure finished the remainder of the meat and walked to the pool. Drakon stripped off his boots and clothes. He followed the blue into the water. Moments later Arana and the red joined them.

  *Red is her color. Roja is her name.* Azure’s voice was so loud Drakon winced.

  *Don’t shout.*

  *Sorry. Verde tells me that many times every day.*

  The two dragons used their legs to propel across the water. Large waves rolled from their passage. Drakon grabbed Arana before one of the walls of water engulfed her. She clung to him. Their lips met. Drakon tensed.

  Arana stroked his face. “The touches of your hands and mouth bring great pleasure.”

  Was she granting him permission? Did she want him to pleasure her? Her body hadn’t responded in a way to make him sure. She brought her lips to his and ran her tongue over them. He moved them toward the ledge and cupped one of her breasts. As he used his thumb to stroke, the nipple beaded. Her tongue slipped into his mouth. Blood and heat rushed to his groin. His phala throbbed.

  *You play?*

  *What?* he asked.

  Arana jerked away. *Roja.* Her shout shattered the sensual glow.

  Drakon heard Azure’s voice. *Roja wants to play. So do I.*

  A wave washed over Drakon and Arana. A second quickly followed. The pool churned like the sea during a storm. Drakon sputtered. *Stop before we drown.*

  *What is drown?* Azure asked.

  *Water will get inside where we breathe and we won’t be able to speak any more.*

  *Then we will not play this game with you.* Azure sighed. *Roja likes the splashing game.*

  Arana pulled her
self onto the ledge. “I think we should let them continue their game.”

  Drakon reached the ledge. He met her gaze. “When they’re asleep I’ll bring you pleasure.” Her eyes clouded with an emotion he wasn’t sure he liked. He didn’t want her pity.

  “I would rather share.”

  He swallowed. Her suggestion didn’t wake the panic he usually experienced when he thought of her touch on the sensitive parts of his body. Perhaps the Old One was right and the bonds of conditioning had begun to loosen. “I would like that.”

  She hugged him. “In a few days we can return to the tower and have time for ourselves.”

  “Yes, we will.”

  At the end of the week, Drakon realized Azure hadn’t gained any length. *Old One, I think we can measure the dragons for the saddles.*

  *I believe the time is right.*

  Since the dragons only needed to be fed twice a day unless there was a flight Drakon and Arana moved some of their belongings back to the tower. The first month of winter had passed and the second begun.

  As he settled into his tower chamber he wondered if Arana would come to his room this night. He missed her company but she would have to be the one to ask for pleasure. The conditioning had weakened but enough remained to make him uneasy when he thought of receiving rather than giving. He settled on the bed. How odd, he thought. He missed her presence and also the dragons.

  *Old One, when will Azure and Roja fly?*

  *Soon.*

  *Are they full-grown?*

  *In length and height. They will add some length and wing span. By winter’s end they will be ready to mate. The feeding schedule and Verde’s exercises have allowed them to mature earlier than usual. When Roja lays her eggs and the dragonets hatch the new ones will take longer to mature.*

  Drakon yawned. *Thanks for telling me. Otherwise I would have worried about the next pair.*

  *The change was needed. The evil one has had control of the dragons of Fyre for too long.*

  Drakon rolled to his side. Was the time of vengeance at hand?

  * * * *

  Lagon paced across the tower heights and back to the door. Winter dragged on. Though snow seldom fell at Sea Cliff, cold, bitter rain often filled the days. At times ice glazed the landing field. Waves dashed against the rocks. The dragons huddled in their pens. Even with the speakers primed with berry tea few flights were taken. From the forced mating flights taken before the rains had begun no eggs had been laid. He smashed his fist against the stone. If his plans were to succeed, he needed dragon hides.

 

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