by GARY DARBY
“And rather large ones at that,” Phigby guffaws.
Alonya smiles and says to Marce, “Alonya, Queen of Golian, thanks her rescuer and I will not forget your courageous deed.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Marce returns, “it was my honor to be of service.”
Alonya reaches out a hand and places it on Marce’s shoulder. “To my friends, I am Alonya, Marce.”
Marce bites down on her lip and her face darkens just a bit. “Thank you . . . Alonya.”
“Speaking of deeds,” Helmar voices, his tone hard as he turns to Cara and me. “Just what were you two thinking of, sneaking off from camp like that?”
“You,” he sputters at Cara, “almost got yourself killed. It was naive, foolish, and—”
“Helmar, stop,” Phigby orders in a gruff voice. “Since when is it foolish to answer a call for help? Or to render aid when called for?
“Is it foolish when a father rushes into a burning cottage to save his child? Is it foolish when someone dives into a swirling river to save a drowning stranger? Or is it foolish when an expecting mother goes to the brink of death to bring her baby into the world?
“To my mind, we should never call any of that foolish.”
Turning to Cara and me, his mouth lifts at one corner in a crooked smile. “Oh,” he rumbles, “Cara’s actions were a bit foolhardy, but her heart wasn’t and that’s the important thing to remember.
“The heart may make fools of us sometimes, but it is that same spirit that gives us the strength to face adversity, that touches our spirits at the sight of a beautiful dawn, or that brings a smile and joy into our lives at the sound of a child’s laughter.”
Pausing, he smiles wider at Cara. “Foolish, Helmar? I will be forever glad to walk in the company of such brave fools.”
Helmar scowls as he replies, “Maybe so, but it could have gotten us all killed.”
“Perhaps,” Phigby agrees, “but it didn’t and let’s dwell on that and not the other, shall we?”
At the sound of many footsteps we turn to find that Marce has left our group and now leads the Uhlan up to us and then, as one, they go to one knee and first bow their heads toward Golden Wind and then—to me, of all people.
Marce raises her head and spreads both arms wide. “Hooper, we of the Uhlan beg forgiveness of you and the Company of the Golden Dragon. We were wrong and caused much harm and for that you have our deepest apology.
“We came close to causing your deaths, and Vay almost capturing Golden Wind.”
She pauses and then declares, “We’ve talked among ourselves and agreed that our actions warrant punishment. It is the only way we can remove the stain from dishonoring our names and our people. Whatever punishment the Gem Guardian would render unto us, we will accept without question.”
A bit embarrassed by Marce’s candid and honest admission, not to mention that the Uhlan bowed to me, I swallow and glance to my companions, seeking help.
No one speaks so I lean toward Alonya and whisper, “You have more experience in these matters than I—what should I do?”
Alonya leans down and whispers, “Follow your heart, Hooper. You have a good one.”
Glancing over at Golden Wind, she gives me a faint nod.
I give Phigby a sideways look but he pinches his lips between his fingers and rolls his eyes skyward, avoiding my eyes.
Cara nudges me with an elbow and gives me an encouraging nod.
Taking in a deep breath, I let it out, and swallow.
“Uh, first thing is that we don’t go around kneeling to people in this company, so please rise.”
The Uhlan, with some reluctance and with puzzled expressions on their faces, stand but with their heads down, unable to meet my eyes.
I wait a moment and then order, “Lift your heads and look at me, please.”
One by one, they raise their chins until I can see all their faces. Drawing a breath, and in somewhat of a shaky voice, I say, “Yes, you were wrong in what you did. But we understand why it happened. You were trying to protect your homeland and you were afraid to confront Vay and scared of what she might do to Nervan.”
Pausing, I think for a moment. “But you do warrant punishment for your actions so this is my judgment and sentence.
“First, we need to take care of your wounds. Phigby is rather good at that, you know. So, once we’re finished here, I sentence you to have Phigby tend to your injuries.
“Second, we need to find food for us all, including yourselves. There are deer in this forest, so after your wounds are tended, I sentence you to organize hunting parties.
“Only, keep an eye on Amil and Helmar or we might be having nothing but rabbit stew to eat.”
Muffled laughter from behind me greets my last comment.
“Third, we will rest tonight as all of us are tired and weary. I suspect you didn’t get much sleep in that dreary dungeon. So, I sentence you to a good night’s sleep.
“Fourth, you will prepare what you need for your return to Nervan and then when you’re ready, I sentence you to speed your way home.
“Fifth, I want your solemn vow that upon your return to Nervan you will warn your people of what’s happening in the world.
“I also sentence you that you are to tell your leaders, your Jelani, of what occurred here, leaving nothing out, including your part.
“And last, but of most importance in this sentencing, I want your promise that from this point forward that you will do everything in your power to fight Vay, to thwart her at every turn, and never, ever give up the battle for our liberty, our lives, and our home.”
Stopping, I glance around at my companions with a questioning look. “Uh, do you think that’s punishment enough?”
Smiles and nods of assent greet my question so I turn back to the Uhlan.
The Uhlan stare at me for a moment, disbelieving, before Marce turns, peers at her comrades before turning back. “Hooper Menvoran, you have our solemn pledge that it shall be so and we accept your ‘punishment’ with all our hearts.”
She hesitates, biting down on her lip. “But may I ask that you add one more, uh, ‘sentence’ to the list?”
My eyebrows furrow for an instant and puzzled, ask, “And what might that be?”
In a small voice, and peering down at the ground, Marce says, “That you and the others would allow me to join your company.”
My eyes widen for a moment before I turn to my comrades with a questioning expression. In turn, each nod in approval as Amil sighs, “At last, an ally instead of a new enemy.”
A quick glance over at Golden Wind has her nodding acceptance as well.
To Marce, I say, “You realize, Marce that if you join our company, you will have no place to call home, no warm hearth to sit by, no soft bed at night and only the hard ground to lay your head upon. You’ll go hungry for days, be cold and wet, face what seems to be unending danger from every quarter and Vay will consider you to be her personal enemy.”
After I stop speaking, Marce raises her head and there’s fire in her eyes. “Vay’s personal enemy, you say? Good,” she snarls, “for the feeling is entirely mutual, of that you can be sure.”
Smiling, I spread my arms wide. “Then, welcome to the Company of the Golden Dragon.”
At that, the Uhlan break out in huge grins and a shout goes up. They surge forward, surrounding me, patting me on the back and shaking my hand with a firm grip as each asserts, “You have my word, Hooper Menvoran, it shall be so.”
After the Uhlan finish pounding the breath out of me, Phigby comes over and squeezes my shoulder. “Well done, lad, well done.”
With that, he’s off to tend to those who bear wounds.
Alonya eyes me and a small smile plays about her face. “It would seem, Hooper, that it is I that should be asking for advice from you and not the other way around.”
“Aye, lad,” Amil rumbles, “no better royal decree have I ever heard from the throne. You have made of the Uhlan a formidable ally, something much needed.”<
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Amil’s thump on my shoulder is almost enough to buckle my knees but he’s soon off with Helmar organizing hunting parties with the Uhlan.
I look around, trying to spot Scamper when Cara eases up and gives me a nudge. “He’s over there. Take a look.”
Glancing in the direction she’s pointing, my eyes go wide.
Regal, Sparkle, Glow, and Strider, sprogs no more but full-grown dragons, and in Regal’s case, much, much more than full-grown are sitting on their haunches, their necks bent over, their muzzles close to Scamper and their eyes set on him.
The little tub is sitting on his rump, head stretched out to them and even from here, I can make out his loud chittering.
My laugh is light as I shake my head. “Once a sprog always a sprog, I guess. I wonder what he’s saying to them?”
“Oh,” Cara replies, “I’d guess the same as before. Something like, you may be bigger than me but I’m still the boss Anarsi around here.”
She nudges me with an elbow while jutting her chin out at the four dragons. “Speaking of bigger, just how did you do that?”
“Um,” I answer, “a little sugar grass mixed in with Voxtyrmen’s magic.”
“Really?” she answers. “Well, in the case of Regal, I’d say it was more than just a ‘little’ sugar grass.”
“So it appears,” I chuckle and glancing up at Alonya, say, “Still, Alonya, you won’t have to be walking from now on.”
“And a good thing, too,” she smiles, “for the leather on the soles of my footwear was growing thin.”
“You’ve never ridden a dragon before,” I reply, “but you seem to be a natural. Thank you for putting Regal between me and those arrows. I thought I had seen my last sunrise there for a moment.”
“You’re welcome, Hooper,” she answers, “and as far as being a natural, no, it took some doing on my part and I admit, overcoming lots of hesitation.”
“Hesitation?” I ask.
“Oh, yes,” she answers. “When the sprogs came walking out of the forest, you can imagine that it was a bit of a shock. But Regal marched right up to me, bowed on one knee, and thrust out his other leg.”
She dimples. “How could I resist such a well-mannered dragon who was the color of royalty?”
Laughing for a moment, she then turns serious. “That, along with the call and bond of friendship, knowing you and Cara might be in the hands of that vile hag.”
Her face grows solemn. “And a bit of Queen Sight.”
“Queen Sight?!” I stammer but before I can ask what she saw, she’s off to join in the hunting parties.
“She’s not going to tell us, is she?” Cara grumbles.
“It appears not,” I reply.
“What did you mean,” she asks, “that Regal came between you and some arrows? I don’t recall seeing that during the battle.”
“Uh, well,” I stammer, “you see . . . I, well, I—”
“Hooper,” she orders, “out with it. You’re such a terrible liar.” She sniffs. “Besides, I’ll find out anyway so you might as well tell me.”
A bit nervous, I begin walking fast toward Golden Wind but Cara stays right with me. So, I tell her about the incident at the castle wall.
She listens but doesn’t say anything until we reach Golden Wind and then she pulls me around to face her. “You were willing to do that for me?”
I have no answer for her. My actions speak far louder than any words I might utter.
She draws in a deep breath. “Thank you, Hooper, twice over. For that, and for getting me out of that dungeon.”
In a hoarse tone, she says, “It was so awful down there and I was so scared.”
“You? Scared?” I return. “I don’t believe that. Besides, it wasn’t just me, you know. Helmar and Rollo were there, too.”
“I know,” she answers, “and I’ve thanked Helmar and expressed my gratitude to Marce, too.”
She gazes down at the ground and crosses her arms in front of her. “Hooper,” she reveals in a small voice, “the truth is I’ve never been so terrified in my life. In fact, I never knew that anything could be so frightening.”
My thoughts flash back to the moment when I thought that I was going to lose Cara in Vay’s dungeon. “Yes,” I whisper, “I understand that some things in life can be so terrifying.”
She raises her head and a small smile comes to her face. “But we’re safe now, right?”
“Yes,” I affirm. “We’re safe now.”
Stroking Golden Wind’s neck, I whisper to her, “Thanks for saving me, again. I guess that was a bit silly of me, going to the castle, facing Vay all by myself.”
“Silly, Hooper?” the golden returns. “Sometimes all it takes is the strength of the one to confront evil and stop it from spreading.”
At Cara’s sigh, I turn to see her twirling several strands of her shortened hair between her fingers. Seeing me stare at her shorn locks, she gives me a little smile, asking, “Do you think you could find some sugar grass for me and work your magic on my hair?”
Golden Wind swings her muzzle around and says in quick words, “I would not suggest that, Cara.”
“Why?” Cara asks.
“Well,” the golden returns, “we wouldn’t want you ending up larger than Alonya, would we?”
Cara laughs. “No, we wouldn’t. I like my size just fine, thanks, so we’ll just let my hair grow.”
She puts her hand on my arm and dimples. “The natural way.”
“Golden Wind,” I begin, “Vay called Phigby Ljos Efla. What does that mean?”
“It means,” the golden answers, “that you should ask Phigby that question.”
Cara sniffs and gives me a frustrated look. “She’s not going to tell us, is she?”
“She must be conspiring with Alonya,” I whisper in Cara’s ear.
“I am not,” Golden Wind sniffs, “but with some the right person should deliver the news.”
“Forgot about her excellent hearing, didn’t you?” Cara smiles.
“Indeed,” I answer and we both laugh.
I bring Galondraig out of its scabbard and stare at the three jewels. Just then, the sprites flutter overhead and land on Golden Wind’s back.
Seeing Twinkle, I gaze down at her gemstone in Galondraig’s hilt. “Well,” I sigh long, “I guess there’s no getting around it. We’ll do it tonight, after the hunters return and we’ve eaten.”
“Do what?” Cara questions.
I point to Twinkle’s moonstone. “See what the faelian ode book has to say.”
“Oh,” Cara sighs in a small voice. “That’s right.”
“No, Hooper,” Golden Wind returns.
“No?”
“No. You said it well,” she answers, “tonight should be a night of rest.”
Her eyes flick between Cara and me. “And of talk and the renewing of friendship and the making of new ones.”
“But what about Vay?”
Golden Wind curls her lips back in a semblance of a smile. “Oh, she will sulk long and hard over her defeat but tonight we can rest. Tomorrow will come soon enough as will the battle.”
“A night of rest,” Cara sighs and gazes at me, “with nothing but easy and delicious talk between friends over an open campfire with venison roasting. How marvelous.”
I stare back into her beautiful apple-green eyes that seem to drown me in their loveliness.
“Yes,” I smile wide, “and that is more than good enough for me.”
THE END
The Legend of Hooper’s Dragons continues in Book Four, soon in publication.
Other books by Gary J. Darby
Science Fiction:
The Star Scout Saga
Book One: Star Rising
Book Two: Fallen Stars: Darkest Days
Book Three: Star’s Honor
Book Four: When Stars Fall
Book Five: How Far the Stars
Fantasy:
The Legend of Hooper’s Dragons
Book One:
If a Dragon Cries
Book Two: The Queen’s Vow
Book Three: On Wings of Thunder
Author’s Note
Thank you so much for reading A Thunder of Wings, book three of my Legend of Hooper’s Dragons series and no, the story doesn’t end there. The story continues in book four which is on the way!
Hooper’s journey still continues to amaze me. The things that he and I are learning together, about both of us and his world, are both wonderful and sobering. Like any journey through life, right?
I can’t wait to see what’s around the next bend in the river or high on the mountain top for him . . . and me.
As always, thanks to all who’ve mentored me in this grand journey of being a literary storyteller, it’s been a great ride.
If you’d like to share your thoughts about this novel, or the upcoming books in the series, feel free to email me at [email protected]. I’m also on Facebook. I’d love to hear from you either way.
And if you can find it in your heart to do so, a review on Amazon or Goodreads, or a shout out on your social media platforms would be most appreciated. Free advertising is a blessing to starving writers, you know.
Like to know what’s upcoming in my writing? Visit my website and check out the “Member Only” page. To access the page use the password: Hooper
Again, thanks so much for reading my novel and I truly hope that whatever you read will bring you wonder, awe, and uplifting thoughts.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Professional copy editing services provided by Marthy Johnson of Copy Editing Services (CES). You may contact her at 907.720.2032 or e-mail: [email protected] if you’re an established or a budding author who needs a little help, well, maybe a lot of help with those clunky commas, or pesky pronouns, or strangled sentences.
She’s also the author of Write or Wrong, a nifty reference manual that all authors should have in their personal library as well as Breakpoint Down, an excellent mystery novel.
You might want to check out her newsletter, Word for Word, just for writers that will help you avoid the pitfalls and potholes of writing in this convoluted language we call English, or as I sometimes refer to it, Anguish. You can subscribe to her newsletter by contacting her via email.