The Dragons of Fyre

by The Dragons of Fyre

  He paced across the wall and glanced toward the village. A ship sat at the dock. His brow wrinkled when he saw the green sail. Why had the wizards come so soon? Loud voices caught his attention and he turned toward the door to the heights.

  “Listen brat, your days here are short.” Bekla laughed. “I am with child. My son will displace you.”

  “You lie.”

  Bekla screamed. Lagon dashed down the stairs to the hall near his chamber. Bekla lay on the landing. He scooped her into his arms. “What happened?”

  “The brat tried to push me down the steps.” She slid her arms around his neck and lowered her head to his shoulder. “She is jealous. When do the wizards arrive?”

  “They are in the village.”

  “Sell her.”

  “Why should I do that?”

  “I am with child.”

  He carried her to his chamber and placed her in the bed. “Is that the truth?”

  She pressed his hand to her belly. “Your son lies here. She will try to kill him.” She opened her blouse and exposed her breasts. “See how much larger they have grown and they ache to be suckled by your son.”

  He laughed. “A son born of a woman from High Peaks.” He leaned down and drew one nipple into his mouth. His tongue danced over the tip. She pressed her hands against his shoulders.

  “Come to me, my lord. Fill me with your dragon.”

  "As you wish.” He seized her blouse and tore the garment. He rained kisses and nips along her neck.

  Bekla slid her hand into the front fold of his breeches. “You are large and hard and ready.” She squeezed his phala.

  He pushed up her skirt and ran a finger along her cleft. “And you are wet and ready. You are the perfect vessel to grow my seed.” Though she had declared she was with child and her breasts were swollen, he would make sure.

  He leaned back and stared at her jutting nipples. Her flushed cheeks and the lust in her dark eyes delighted him. He grasped her hips and thrust until she moaned and thrashed her head back and forth on the pillow. She clutched the sheets and met him stroke for stroke.

  “Now,” she screamed. “Now, oh, now. Bathe my inner passage with your juices.” She shuddered. “I am yours.”

  He raised his head and thrust once more before releasing. He kissed her. His teeth sunk into her lower lip. “Wait for me.” He straightened his breeches and left.

  Lagon hurried down the stairs and stepped outside. He found his daughter in the dragon pens and clamped his hand on her arm. “Why did you try to push Bekla down the stairs?”

  Lorana glared. “She pushed me first. She wants me gone. If she has your baby it won’t be a boy.”

  He shook her. “You are wrong. She is with child and she will be my wife. I have no further need of you. Go to your room and gather your belongings.”

  “Why? I came to see the dragons. The reds are with egg and the dragons will be green.”

  “How do you know?”

  “They speak to me. I don’t need the tea. I am a real speaker.”

  He saw defiance in her eyes. He dug his fingers into her flesh until she winced. “I no longer need you.” He signaled one of the servants. “Come with us.” He glared at his daughter. “You will pack your clothes and anything you choose to take. You’re going on a journey.”

  “No.”

  Lagon cuffed her. “You will do as I say.” He forced her across the landing field, into the tower and up the stairs. In her room, Lagon stuffed clothes and scrolls as well as her brush and comb into a haversack. He bound her hands and gagged her. Then he forced her to walk to the village and onto the docked ship.

  The moment they reached the deck a wizard appeared. A young man with hair of flame walked behind the man. Both wore clothes made from dragon hide.

  “So you have brought the girl,” the wizard said. “How fortunate I am that this is my time to visit your land.”

  Lagon nodded. “As promised.”

  “Does she speak to the dragons?”

  “She says she does but I have never heard her.” Lagon dropped the haversack on the deck.

  The young man removed Lorana’s gag and untied her hands. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Our thanks,” the wizard said.

  “I have news for you and your fellow wizards. The next time one of your ships docks there will be a green and a yellow pelt. In a year or two there will be four green hides.”

  The wizard handed Lagon a pouch. “This ship will return for the hides. Give them to no other wizard. You may go.” He turned to Lorana. “Come, child. You have much to learn. My student will show you were to sleep. When you are grown you will be a valuable asset.”

  Lagon walked away. “Father.” He turned. Lorana stood with her hands on her hips. “You will lose the battle at High Peaks. You will die and there will be no son to follow.”

  Lagon laughed. “You are wizards to cry a prophecy.” He strode down the gangplank.

  * * * *

  Drakon fastened another bag of meat with thorns and berries to Arana’s saddle. She did the same on the other side. Azure bore four packs. Drakon added two holding food for he and Arana. They would stop for the night and again for a midday meal.

  Sofona left the tower and handed him a cloth wrapped packet. “Shortbread.”

  Radlan, Cerene and Tiron joined the older woman. Radlan clasped Drakon’s hand. “I wish I could go with you. Are you sure you must confront Lagon at Sea Cliff.”

  Drakon nodded. “Better there than here. Your job is to protect Verde and the eggs.”

  Verde crept from the cavern. *What will you do if the blues are waiting to attack?*

  *I will handle them,* the Old One said.

  *With two to control them we would be sure to win.*

  *You will stay here unless you are called.* The Old One paced across the forecourt.

  With Drakon’s assistance, Arana settled in the saddle. She peered into his eyes. “We should check the pass to see if Lagon’s men are a threat. The Old One could tell Verde what we see.”

  “I trust the villagers to repel them.”

  *Looking will not take us much out of our way.* The Old One took flight.

  Drakon shrugged. Though he was impatient to be in Sea Cliff, if Lagon’s men found a way through the pass the cavern and the unhatched eggs were in danger. *The pass then.*

  Roja followed the yellow dragon into the air. Azure was last. Drakon braced for the dropping sensation. This time his queasiness faded quickly. He grinned and surrendered to the exhilaration of flight.

  The Old One took the lead and flew toward the pass. Several hours later they reached their destination. Drakon guided Azure lower. A group of horsemen carrying Lagon’s banner approached the pass. Drakon counted several hundred horsemen. He looked at the defenders of the pass and saw there were men where the rocks had fallen and a number on the heights. He sent Azure even lower and swept across the troop. Horses spooked. The orderly lines broke into confusion.

  Roja and the Old One joined his efforts. *They will take hours to reassemble,* the yellow said.

  *Onward to Sea Cliff. At sunset we’ll find a place to rest until morning. Relay the message to Arana.*

  At midday they passed the tower closest to High Peaks. Drakon noticed the condition of the fyrethorn hedge. The bushes were stunted. If few thorns and berries were available for the dragons their ability to fly would be limited.

  When the sun sank in the west they landed in a grassy field. After feeding the dragons Drakon built a fire and heated water for tea. He and Arana ate some of the food Sofona had packed. They slept in each other’s arms between the dragons.

  At dawn they ate and fed the dragons. Drakon helped Arana into the saddle and then fastened himself on Azure’s back. “We’ll reach Sea Cliff around midday.”

  “We should stop and feed the dragons before then so they’ll be able to fight if they must. I pray we’ll win.”

  “We must.” He signaled the Old One to take flight.


  When the sun had passed midday, Drakon drew a deep breath. A salty tang rode the breeze. *Old One, remind Arana of the plan.*

  *She knows her part. She will land, dismount and send Roja aloft. You will do the same taking care to avoid the blues. Surely they will rise. I’m sure they know we’re on the way. Once Arana calms the reds you must rouse the speakers to allow me to control the dragons.*

  *Will this work?*

  *We have but one chance.*

  Drakon frowned. What did the Old One mean? He and Arana rode their dragons. Soon there would be two others who spoke and rode. Was there more than defeating Lagon to be accomplished? He stared ahead. The Sea Cliff Tower came into view. When he looked beyond the tower to the sea he saw a ship. One sail was green, not white like the slavers’ ship that had carried him from his home.

  *Is the ship leaving?* he asked.

  *I believe so. There are wizards aboard. Fathers of evil.* The Old One growled. *We will bar them from our land.*

  *Can we?*

  *There is a way but first we must defeat the evil one.*

  Moments later, Azure and the Old One hovered over the landing field. Roja dove and landed. Four blues rose. Drakon heard the Old One shouting orders. Azure swooped past the blues. Drakon leaped off and Azure joined Roja and the Old One. The blues flew in erratic patterns.

  *Stay safe,* Drakon called.

  As Azure shot into the sky the blues swarmed toward him. The Old One’s commands scattered the four. Drakon started toward the tower.

  “Drakon, wait.” Arana dashed from the pens.

  “The reds.”

  “Will remain in their pens.” She clasped his hand and led him past the entrance into the tower.

  “Where are you going? We need to rouse the speakers.”

  She opened a door into a small building. “To do that we need the antidote.” She reached for a flask and pulled vials from the shelves. When she finished mixing the solutions she opened a second door and led him into a dark corridor and to an entrance into the great hall.

  Drakon paused on the threshold. Four men lay on lounges.

  A woman stood near one of the fireplaces. She stared at Arana. “Why did you return?”

  “To see Lagon,” Arana said. “Give me the tea. I have the antidote.”

  The woman’s eyes filled with fear. “It is not time. The lord said they must remain with the dragons until nightfall.”

  Drakon placed his hands on the woman’s shoulders. “If you wait that long they will be dead and their dragons with them. Even now I hear one scream with pain.” He pointed to one of the men who thrashed his arms and legs.

  Arana reached for the kettle. She poured the antidote into the tea and filled four cups. She handed one to Drakon. “Go to the one who fights. Make sure he drinks the entire cup.”

  Drakon walked to the young man who continued to thrash. He ducked the flailing hands and raised the man into a sitting position and encouraged him to drink. As soon as the dup was drained, Drakon found himself being fought. He was knocked to the floor. As he struggled to free himself from the speaker’s fists, Arana approached the lounge across the room nearest to the door,

  “Drakon,” she screamed. “Lagon has me.”

  Drakon untangled himself. “Leave her alone.”

  Lagon laughed. “So you are the one I sold to the slavers. By what right have you to interfere in another man’s tower?”

  “As much right as you had when you invaded High Peaks and took dragons from there and from the other towers.”

  “I had the right of power.” Lagon’s laughter rose to a high pitch. “The wizards told me I would rule all the towers and so I have. I killed your father and brothers. Your father took the woman who should have been mine. I had her. She gave me a child but not the promised son. A girl cannot be my heir.”

  The declaration stunned Drakon. Why hadn’t Arana told him he had a half-sister? Several of the speakers grabbed him. He tried to shake off the hands that restrained him. “Let Arana go.”

  “Why?” Lagon pushed her toward the door. “By now my servants have entered the pass. Your guards deserted and came to me.”

  “I know and the pass has been fortified.”

  “How did you sneak past my men?”

  “We flew.”

  Lagon laughed. “Impossible. There is no way a man who drinks the tea can ride on a dragon’s back.”

  “We don’t need the tea.”

  The Old One’s voice startled Drakon. *What’s wrong?*

  *The Sea Cliff blue refuses to land. Lagon’s speaker’s path remains open and he urges an attack.”

  “I’ll see to him.” Drakon looked around. Arana and Lagon had vanished.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lagon carried the struggling young woman up the stairs. She pounded his back with her fists and tried to free her legs. As they reached the third landing she jerked and they nearly fell. He paused to catch his breath. “Be still. If I fall you go with me.”

  “I won’t be a prisoner in your bed,” she said.

  “I have no desire to have you there.” He started for the next landing. “Once I thought you were the High Peaks woman promised by the wizards to present me with my heir. You are not.”

  Arana laughed. “And you think Bekla is the one? She wants a dragon speaker. When she failed to seduce Drakon she came here. How fitting. You are a matched pair.”

  Lagon reached the fifth landing and the steps to the tower heights. “How did you arrive?”

  “We flew on the backs of our dragons.” She reared her head. Once again they nearly fell.

  “Arana, take care.” Drakon’s voice sounded from below. “I’m on my way.”

  Lagon laughed. “Do you think you can defeat me?”

  “I know I can. I am no longer the helpless boy you sold.”

  At the top of the steps Lagon opened the door to the roof. He dropped Arana and slammed the door. He slid the bar into the metal holders. If Drakon could ride a dragon, so could he. *Sea Cliff blue, come for me. I must escape.*

  *I come. I evade. Be patient.”

  Lagon stared at the dragons above the tower. How could the blue reach the roof when three dragons circled him? Lagon moved to the wall and called the blue again. He was thankful he’d taken no more than a sip of the antidote. His speaker’s path remained open. *Come for me. I will ride on your back.*

  The blue evaded the pair that tried to force him to land. The yellow raked the blue’s flank. Lagon heard and felt the dragon’s roar of pain. The red dashed in and slashed the other side.

  “Arana, call off your dragon,” Lagon shouted. “Reds do not fight.” He stared toward the place where he had dropped her. She had vanished. Where? Then he saw her.

  Arana reached the door and used the bar to pull herself to her feet. Lagon dashed toward her but she pulled the bar free. Using the piece of wood like a weapon she faced him. The door flew open. A young man with brown hair and broad shoulders lunged onto the roof. Lagon stared at the heir of High Peaks Tower. The young man’s muscular body resembled his father’s but his features belonged to his mother.

  Lagon drew his knife and leaped forward. Arana swung the bar and knocked the knife from his hand. The gleaming metal flew through the air. Lagon pushed her. The young man charged. Lagon dashed past Drakon and Arana.

  “No,” a woman screamed. “Let him be. He is mine.” Bekla ran past the enemy pair.

  “Go back,” Lagon shouted. “Do not endanger my heir.” Lagon climbed on the wall. *Come. Come.” He overbalanced. In an attempt to recover his arms flailed.

  “No.” Bekla grabbed his legs.

  Lagon’s tunic was caught by a dragon’s claws. He and Bekla were lifted into the air. She screamed and clutched his legs. The cloth of his shirt tore. He looked up. The dragon was yellow not blue. Bekla tried to climb his legs. Her screams had dwindled to fear-filled whimpers. Something jarred the dragon. Lagon’s screams echoed Bekla’s as the dragon plunged toward the rocks.

 
* * * *

  Drakon pushed to his feet and raced to the wall. He reached it seconds after Bekla and Lagon swooped into the air and dangled from the Old One’s talons. He tried to grab Bekla’s legs but she kicked. Her screams flooded his senses.

  The Sea Cliff blue evaded Roja and Azure. It dove at the Old One and shredded one of his wings. Roja and Azure herded the blue toward the landing field. The Old One plunged out of control. Bekla and Lagon fell onto the rocks. The Old One crashed on them.

  *Old One,* Drakon called.

  *I live for a time. Come to the rocks so I can tell you what must be done.*

  Drakon turned from the wall and sought to understand what had happened here. He held his grief for the yellow dragon in a tightened fist. The Old One was not dead, yet. His feelings about Lagon’s and Bekla’s deaths brought both sadness and relief. Justice, not vengeance, he thought.

  Arana stood at his side. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Why?” Her voice broke.

  “We must go to him. He’s not dead yet. Is there a way to reach the rocks?” He clasped her hand.

  “There is.”

  “Then let us go.” Together they dashed down the stairs and pushed through the milling bob in the lower hall. Though one of the men tried to block their way, Drakon shoved him aside. “See to your dragons. Someone should tend the wounds of the Sea Cliff blue.”

  He and Arana emerged on the landing field. “This way.” Arana dashed to a narrow path leading to the rocks.

  The path hugged the cliff on one side. The other side was open to the rocks and the sea. There was a thin guide rope to help the walker. Salty spray slicked the stones making the path treacherous. Though Drakon wanted to run, he took each step carefully. *Old One, we are coming.*

  *I wait for your touch.*

  When Drakon reached the yellow dragon, the sight of the shredded wing caused him to draw a deep breath. Grief swirled with rage bringing chaos to his thoughts. He turned to Arana. “Can his wing be mended?”

  “I can try.”

  *My time is done. She cannot mend what is broken inside.*