Chapter Three
The Birthing
The group pressed on and the path ended at Firedrake, the north-east nests of the dragons. The large open area formed an enclosed half circle, and the caves laid beyond that. Some distance from the caves was a stable. They quickly rode to the structure.
Bork dismounted his horse as Cara slid off behind him. He tied up his horse at the watering trough. Inside the stable, several horses and other riding animals could be heard moving about their stalls.
“Hurry, girl,” he said. “We are late.”
“Yes, master,” Cara replied as she limped to their pack horse and started unloading the equipment. She was twelve now and it was her first time leaving the tribal lands, so she peered around at the strange land of the dragons.
Bork brought his son and his two friends to participate in the Dragon Rite. She was there to prepare their meals while they stayed in Firedrake. The ceremonial acts would take about five fortnights.
The dracoman, who had spoken with them earlier, approached as he told them, “You must come now. The queen has already started her birthing pangs. Quickly, this way!”
Bork started after the dracoman, paused, and shouted, “Fetch the gifts, girl. The rest of our items you can unload later. We are late for the first act of the Dragon Rite. Turk, Barman, and Cyan, come with me. The queen shall soon lay her eggs if she has not already.”
“Yes, father,” Turk replied.
The three boys dismounted, removed their swords from their bedrolls, and followed Bork, and he led them toward the caves. Two large dragons guarded the entrance. They were tall, three horses high, and winged. One dragon was the color of bronze and the other was teal.
“I shall leave you here,” the dracoman spoke. “I need to return to my patrol.” He walked off without another word.
The teal colored dragon carefully eyed the four of them and then he said, “Dragon Elder Duran awaits you, Bork. You need to proceed with haste to the Ritual Room. The first act of the Rite is about to begin. It cannot be delayed.”
“We shall hurry,” Bork replied, then he started in and paused. “Blasted! Where is that girl? We need the gifts. Useless girl! Turk, go see what is keeping her.”
“Yes, father,” Turk answered then he hurried back to their horses as the others continued into the cave.
At the stables...
Cara was having difficulty undoing the buckle to the pack. She finally unbuckled it and removed the wooden chest from the pack. She held the chest in her left hand and started toward the caves when something caught her eye in the sand. She reached down, picked up a bloodstone the size of a walnut, and examined it as she said, “This is pretty.”
“What is taking you so long, wench?” Turk barked as he approached her from her blindside.
Startled by his sudden appearance, she looked up, saw his angry face, and clasped her hand around the bloodstone to hide it from him. If he found it, she wouldn't be allowed to keep it, but that wasn't the only thing she feared from him. Trepidation ransacked her heart like one of the great tempest that ravaged her homeland, and she pleaded, “Forgive me, young master. I could not...”
He walked up and back handed her as he yelled, “Do not give me excuses!”
She held her reddening face, but his reaction was mild compared to other times. The sting of the strike made her pause as fear of what he might do next whirled in her mind. Cara chose her next words carefully and made them few as she spoke, “Forgive me.”
He grabbed the wrist of her stunted arm and jerked her toward him, and she nearly dropped the chest. She caught it with her right hand as he squeezed bruises that were already days old. The veins in his neck bulged with his targeted wrath as he started to yell, but then two dracomen walked by.
Turk leaned in close and whispered to her, “There is no forgiveness for you, wench. Now hurry, before my father yells at the both of us.”
Once he released her, she ran as fast as she could. He jogged beside her, and they passed the two dragon guards. The dragons eyed them but said nothing. They proceeded further in and Turk didn't let up on her.
“You are so worthless!” he yelled. “I do not understand why my father keeps you. You are slow, ugly, and incapable of doing any real work, and I am the one that has to hear it when you fail to do your duties. Wench, go faster.”
“Yes, young master,” Cara said as she hurried even more to the point of almost falling over in her awkward gimp. She never understood the rage he had toward her. He never treated the other slaves as he did her. She wondered why she was any different. Maybe it was Bork's wife who influenced her son's wrath.
They hustled through a tunnel, and the air cooled the deeper they went. Wooden torches along the walls lit the way. He moved in behind her and watched as she rushed in her graceless gait. They were moving too slow and this enraged him even more.
“Look at her,” he muttered to himself as his anger turned to loathing. Look how weak she was. His tribe was a proud tribe and a race of warriors. He didn't understand why her parents allowed her to live or his father. Even if she was a girl, she represented his tribe. How could they show their faces with such weakness at their side? When he became tribal leader, all of that would change. No feebleness would be allowed.
Upon entering the large cavern of the Ritual Room, Turk removed his sword's scabbard from his belt and tripped her with it. She fell sprawl out, then the lid of the wooden chest came open, its contents spilled out, and three marbles made of gold clanged to the stone floor. Everyone in the room turned at the sound.
Three candidates from each of the other four tribes were assembled along with Bork, Barman, and Cyan. The other candidates were about the same age as Turk and his friends. The chief of the chieftains of each tribe or the second highest ranking chieftain was there. There were also four Venetian Red Scribes to record the event, and Dragon Elder Duran and two other dragon elders waited patiently.
Stalagmites and stalactites filled the Ritual Room that was not only lit by torches but by several basket-shaped cast iron fire stands. The stone path led down into a white sandy area. The sand had phosphorescent microbes living in it, and anywhere where darkness prevailed, the sand glowed a light green.
“Blasted girl!” Bork blurted, embarrassed by her.
Barman and Cyan snickered as Turk came their way with a big grin on his face. He was pleased that his intension just to trip her up, had also caused her great embarrassment. His father will be furious with her, and maybe his father would pay less attention to her. Turk's mother had whispered many things to Turk about this slave, and it had infuriated him since he was a boy, and he mistreated her for it.
Cara looked around at the many male faces staring at her, and her face flushed as she quickly picked up the gold marbles and placed them back in the chest. She hurried to Bork, and the sand was cold to her bare feet.
“Take them to the elder,” Bork ordered.
She turned and timidly approached the large yellow dragon. She had never met a dragon before, and she had never met anything so big. He looked as if he could swallow her whole if he so choose to.
“Are these the gifts?” Dragon Elder Duran questioned her as he stared at the wooden chest.
She couldn't look him directly in the face and nodded. The dragon smelled of earth and his feet were as large as her body.
Dragon Elder Duran motioned beside himself with his head as he instructed her, “Place them in the Bestowal Basin. It is located on the raised area known as the Middle Ground.”
She searched the area he motioned to and saw a shallow silver bowl on a stalagmite that had been cut into a pedestal. The Bestowal Basin was positioned halfway between the Ritual Room and the Quickening Chamber where the queen paced. There were also several dragons standing guard over their queen within the Quickening Chamber. Cara moved from the Ritual Room toward the center of the great cave to the point the dragon had motion
ed to. The Middle Ground consisted of a circular dark gray stone platform that had three steps going up to it. The stone was big enough that several dragons could stand on it. She moved up the steps to the pedestal as the dragon came up behind her. The Bestowal Basin was so large that both of her arms would only encompass half of it. She was barely tall enough to look inside. She got on her tippy toes and saw twelve gifts within. There were three rubies, three silver coins, three diamonds, and three emeralds. She placed in the three gold marbles, and the bloodstone she had been holding in the same hand also fell in, so Cara reached in and retrieved it. She started back to her master.
Dragon Elder Duran saw the glint of red before she scooped it out of the basin. He knew how some humans liked to take things that didn't belong to them, and he couldn't allow her to steal one of the gifts so he said, “Wait, child. What did you retrieve from the gifts?”
She tilted her head as if she didn't understand his question, so he rephrased it by saying, “What are you holding in your hand?”
“My hand?” She paused, opened her palm, showed it to him, and then she replied, “Only this.”
He noticed what he thought was a ruby and Dragon Elder Duran warned her, “All gifts are to go in. You may not remove them once they have gone in the Bestowal Basin. You must return the gem.”
She would have argued that it wasn't part of the gifts or a gem, but she was too
AabiLynn's Dragon Rite #0 Dragon's Brood: Egg Hatchlings' Ritual- Prequel Page 5