The Dragon's Back Trilogy

by Robert Dennis Wilson

  It had not been Jason’s intention to kill the man who had attacked his GrandSire, only to disable, or at the least to get him out of the way. In that briefest of moments before the man fell, Jason would have gladly attempted to save him if he could. But that was simply out of the question. Jason would not release the hold he had on his GrandSire to save all the men in the world!

  THE BRIDGE OF AIR

  “What in the name of the Dragon happened to you? You three look like you’ve been in a war!” Kaleb breathlessly demanded as he rushed up to the objects of his frantic search. There they sat beside the road, three battle-stained men seated with their backs to the rocks and their swords in their laps.

  Each of the three travelers gave him, in turn, their perspective on the recent events, bringing him up to the point of Thaddeus’ just-in-time rescue from sliding over the edge of the Dragon.

  “But what happened to the two men who were left? Did you throw them over the side to join their companions?!” Kaleb demanded obviously growing very agitated by news of the attack. “And why would they attack you anyhow? What’s so important about us that someone would be willing to die just to try and kidnap us?”

  The old carver replied to his grandson’s query, but his voice sounded weak, raspy, and out of breath, “The two that were left, we sent away without their swords an’ without their packs. Those we threw off the side of the Dragon. Guess they’ll be goin’ back t’ whoever sent ‘em carryin’ only empty hands an’ red faces. Then we pointed our sword points into the backs of that misguided Dragon scum an’ tol’ em, ‘Get! Or you’ll follow yer junk down into the deep!’”

  “Yeah,” quipped in Jason with what Kaleb recognized as a nervous laugh, “That giant picked up the guy I had stuck, just like he was a rag-doll and the two of them took off up the trail like they had all the Gryphon’s eagles peckin’ at their heels!”

  “As fer why they wanted y’ two?” GrandSire pondered, “I suppose they think they have a claim on ye’ cause of some promises your folks made when you were very young. Promises that your parents later renounced!”

  “What kind of promises?” both boys asked at once.

  “Don’t know ‘zactly. They never said. But y’ can bet yer tunic that they’s no good if the blackrobes were involved!”

  And that was all they could get him to say on the subject.

  ~ ~ ~

  After Kaleb’s curiosity concerning recent events had been assuaged, the four weary travelers sat in silence as though wrapped in heavy blankets of deep contemplation that would have muffled any attempt at spoken words.

  Jason’s voice might have been silent, but his mind raced through recent events and revelations. A growing discomfort, however, interrupted his thoughts. To Jason, the boulder and ground he leaned against seemed unusually cold considering the afternoon sun that beat down on them. The longer he sat, the more uncomfortable he became for the chill crept into his body and stole away his strength. The cold did not seem to bother the others for, to his right, the even raspy breath of his GrandSire indicated that the old man probably slept.

  To take his mind from his growing physical discomfort and an accompanying sense of unease, he allowed his eyes to scan the dark sea toward the horizon. As his gaze locked on the distant blue-gray cloud wall that encircled the whole of mankind's known world, some cruel trick of nature or chance conspired to form in his mind ever-changing images on the swirling mass of that vaporous wall. He wanted to look and see if any of his companions were observing the same strange portents, but could not free his eyes long enough to check.

  Trapped in the tower of the Orphanage, Jason’s childhood had been enriched by the innocent but imaginative pastime of looking out their barred upper story window to find fanciful patterns and shapes in the billowing columns of smoke rising above the Dragon’s head. The images that now transfixed him required little imagination. One time in all their stay on the Island they had been allowed out on an educational trip. They were taken to the Thornhouse, the seat of local government. Carved into the coral-orange walls of that civic building were elaborate bass relief images of men and beasts. The smoke-borne images that filled his horizon carried that much detail or more.

  As tall as the sky and as broad as the Sea, the scene of a monumental battle played itself out before his eyes in distant moving smoke. Squadrons of flying dragons met and clashed against airborne flights of mighty eagles, battling above the tiny forms of two human figures. The two figures, one dark, and the other light, were engaged in a desperate struggle as well, wrestling and pushing each other first this way and then that. To the left, the dark dragons filled the air. To the right were the eagles. In Jason’s mind it appeared as though the two humans were champions for the opposing hosts above them for as the darker man on the left triumphed, so did the dreaded airborne army above him. When the lighter-colored man under the eagles prevailed, so those above him seemed to dominate the skies.

  I wonder, he thought as his perception of the battle changed, could I be mistaken? Is it really the dragons and eagles which determine the battle while the two men only mark the score? Come on eagles! he almost shouted as the dark side momentarily gained the advantage.

  Suddenly the tactics of the battle changed. The dragons no longer directed their energies toward their flying opponents, but rather fell swiftly from the sky toward the men below them. The lighter man noticed the change and attempted to defend himself from the flying assault. The eagles swept down to his aid, but…

  No! Jason almost cried out loud. The eagles are arriving too late. One of the dragons got through and forcefully knocked his human opponent to the ground, landing astride the prone figure!

  Before Jason could react further to the catastrophe depicted by the images, the whole scene changed. No longer did portents of eagles and dragons fill the smoky backdrop. Instead, the picture drew ever closer to the edge of a boulder-strewn cliff and a small battle involving only men. Closer and closer the figures seem to come as, like an eagle, the perspective of the watcher swept rapidly down on them from above. In that instant, Jason recognized the combatants. He saw himself and Nathan fighting to rescue his GrandSire. But the image continued to draw closer and closer until only the face and then just the eyes of one man filled the horizon.

  Those eyes opened wide in horror and then the image froze. Staring accusingly at the apprentice bard from beyond the veil of death, the doomed blackrobe’s image tore into the heart and soul of his killer. Transfixed in the darkened irises of those eyes, Jason saw first himself, then the image of a young woman holding two babies in her arms. Without knowing how, Jason knew them as the family of the man he had killed.

  I killed him! he sobbed and dropped his head to blot out in the solace of his arms the image of the Eyes. I killed a man and I can never change that! Will I see those eyes forever? he cried, for even with his own eyes shut, the image remained.

  Even though he remained seated on the ground next to his GrandSire, Jason could not help noticing that the pack he wore slung across his back had grown considerably heavier in the short time they rested. The weight of that burden and its contents cut into his shoulders and jabbed afresh into the still-open wounds on his back.

  Why do I feel this way? Has the weight of those giant Eyes been added to my pack? he silently asked himself, wishing he could shift or fidget or remove the offending leather pouch altogether. But everything that he had been taught fought against that movement. From his childhood, the tenants of the land had been drilled into him by the impatient schoolmasters at the Orphanage. One of those that had been stressed the most they had called either “The Code of Manhood” or simply “The Stigma." Involuntarily he recalled a portion of the words:

  “Each man’s burden is his own,

  A test that he must bear alone

  Or face the shame of those who lack

  The manly strength to bear their pack.” *8

  No, it won’t do to let the others see how much I’m struggling, he reasoned
. Kaleb said it looked like we had fought a war. Little did he know I’m still fighting one.

  But the image of the woman and her children filled his mind again, betraying his resolve.

  A soft moan of pain involuntarily escaped his lips.

  “What is it, Laddie?” asked the familiar voice of his GrandSire. He felt the comforting pressure of the old man’s hand gripping his shoulder. “Are y’ havin’ a bad dream?”

  Jason raised his tear-filled eyes only part of the way to look at the carver. He felt embarrassed to meet the gaze of another human being. After all, thought the boy, his sin and shame had been shown on the wall of the world for everyone to see. And he wasn’t supposed to show anyone the burdens in his pack. Yet he knew this dear old man loved him…

  As though he could see right through the tough leather covering of his grandson’s pack and read his mind as well, the old man whispered in a voice that only Jason could hear, “Aye, lad, ‘tis hard t’ be a bearin’ great burdens by yerself. The shame of it is, that any man’ll ask ‘is neighbor t’ help ‘im move a bolder from ‘is field an’ not feel the weaker. But when it comes t’ much heavier weights, the kind no eye can see… ‘Each man’s burden is ‘is own.’ An’ that’s a real shame.”

  Jason’s whispered response came out before he could stop himself, “I… I killed a man! I saw his eyes in the cloud wall. I saw his wife and children! Everyone who sees me will know what I have done!”

  “Woah, Laddie, ‘tis true, the man is dead. But that was not yer intent. He was tryin’ to do me in and y’ only did what y’ had t’ do t’ save me. Iffin’ he hadn’t been doin’ wrong he’d not’ve suffered his untimely fate. Even the Gryphon allows us t’ take a life if life’s threatened. Don’t let the Dragon tell ya different. As far as seein’ anythin’ in the smoke – you’ve been asleep fer some time. The cloud wall’s stayed the same as always.”

  In unbelief, Jason spun his head to face the distant accusing wall again. But, to his surprise, ordinary smoke met his scrutinizing gaze.

  Could it be? he wondered. Was it only a dream?

  Yet, in spite of his GrandSire’s comfort, he could not shake the awful feeling that clung to him like a damp tunic. The new weight in his pack remained.

  “I guess you’re right,” he replied softly but felt very little rightness in his words.

  Thankfully the old carver did not pursue the matter further. Instead, he spoke a little louder as he attempted to rise to his feet, “I guess we best be goin’…”

  But both his efforts and his words ended in a stifled grunt as Thaddeus once more landed beside Jason on the cold hard stone of the path.

  Both Jason and Nathan scrambled to assist their fallen companion.

  “I’m alright! I’m alright,” insisted the old carver, “just a little stiff from sittin’ on this hard Dragon rock. He’ll steal the strength outta anyone that gets too close to ‘im. Guess there’s still dark power in that ol’ broken horn.” With a nod of his head, Thaddeus indicated the boulder supporting his back. Then turning to his youngest grandson, he added, “Let that be a warnin’ to ya’, lad, mind where y’ do yer restin’. Doin’ it too close t’ the Dragon’ll make y’ weak or start y’ seein’ what’s not really there!”

  Amazing! thought Jason, smiling down at his GrandSire. This old man can take a fall to the ground and turn it into a lesson!

  But he also noted the old man’s raspy breathing seemed more labored than ever. His concern for his GrandSire’s health prompted Jason to frantically search for a way to prevent the stressful climb they were about to begin, to finish their pilgrimage up to the top of Dragonshead.

  As the two bards helped Thaddeus to his feet, each supporting him under an arm to assure that he remained upright, Jason devised a plan. He had known his GrandSire only a short time, but he knew almost instinctively that Thaddeus cared more about the comfort of others than about himself. Maybe, reasoned the boy, I can make him stop if he thinks that I would have trouble making the climb.

  “GrandSire?” he made the name a question and let feigned weariness color to his words. “Do we really need to continue this journey? I’m exhausted from what we’ve been through today. I know you wanted us to go to the top (and we came pretty close), but it’s growing late. Our evening meal has been ruined and it’s a long walk back down to Scalina…”

  But the wise old carver laughed weakly and shook his head to negate the boy’s words, “I know what y’ be about, Laddie, an’ I’m thankful for yer concern. It’s evident to all here that I’m the one’s winded, not ye. But as I’ve said afore, I’m followin’ the Gryphon’s footprints. They’ve led me this far up this ol’ Dragon’s head, an’ I’ve seen no sign of them stoppin’, so neither will I. Even if they lead me over the edge at the top, still I’ll keep on doin’ what He’s taught me t’ do. ‘Tis no use quittin’ a journey till y’ get t’ the end!”

  Jason’s head filled with questions and protests and fears at these words but before he could voice any of them, Kaleb caught at his shoulder from behind.

  “If you three,” announced his brother in a gruff, passionless voice, “really have your hearts set on making it up to the top of that slope before dark, then you’d better let me carry the old man’s pack. I don’t mean any offense to you, GrandSire, but it would speed things up and put less strain on those who are helping you.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Three startled faces turned suddenly toward him. Kaleb, unsure himself why he had made the sudden offer, found that his companions met his proposal with an almost stunned silence.

  It’s like they don’t think I’m capable of doing anything good, he thought, hiding his disappointed feelings under a tough look of indifference.

  “I don’t care one way or the other,” he added being as nonchalant as possible. “I just thought I’d make the offer.”

  “An’ a great offer it is!” exclaimed Thaddeus with a new zest in his voice. “Not only will I not take offense, but I’d be plum honored t’ ‘ave y’ carry m’ pack for me! Plum honored!”

  The wide, warm smile that the old man beamed at him briefly touched the young man’s darkened heart. Almost, thought the youth, almost, you could make me forgive…

  “Thank ye, son! An’ I really mean that,” said his GrandSire while struggling out of his burden.

  “Aw, it’s nothin’,” said Kaleb. And scaline armor covered his words once more.

  And so they started up the winding path that climbed up the edge of the Dragon’s forehead. The two bards, with the old carver slung between them, barely had room to squeeze between the tumbled boulders on their left and yawning chasm to their right. Kaleb uncharacteristically took his position at the rear of the party.

  Something’s not right, he reasoned to himself a little later, watching carefully the progress of those in front of him. Oh, the old man seems cheerful enough, even though he’s breathin’ real hard… It just that something feels wrong, like something bad is about to happen, but I don’t know what. Jase must be feelin’ it, too. He hasn’t uttered a word since we started the climb. Strange things have been happening! What was it the old man said? That some people were out to get us? That doesn’t make any sense at all. What possible importance could two young boys hold that they’d send thugs after us? And to use force on that helpless old carver? They better not want to take me back to that Place again! They’d need an army to drag me back to Marvin’s prison. I think I’d rather jump off the edge of the Dragon, myself before I let that happen!

  Kaleb allowed his now weary steps to take him closer to the edge. Fearfully but resolutely, he stared down into inky black depths. Far below he could just make out the darkened waves highlighted by an occasional whitecap, now turned murky gray. The late afternoon sun, though still over their heads, had already abandoned the eastern side of the Dragon, below him, to the gloom of night. Back down behind them, the tower at Mann’s Pointe was ringed with tiny insignificant sparks of light.

  That’s all I am, a dark
voice whispered in his mind. Just a tiny spark in the darkness. No one would even notice if it was extinguished.

  His footsteps inched even closer to the edge.

  Suddenly, he slammed into the massive, unyielding back of Nathan the bard. The force of that unexpected stop toppled him backward to land in an undignified heap, luckily in the middle of the path. He had been looking down and back and had not realized that the others had halted at the top of the slope.

  Oh, don’t bother yourselves with me, he thought angrily as no one seemed to even notice that he had fallen. It’s not like I’m carryin’ two packs or anything!

  But then he stopped, frozen in his silent tirade by a haunting and familiar sound that had broken into his sleep more times than he could remember. Jason had cried out in terrified alarm.

  Prompted by an overwhelming urge to protect his younger brother, he scrambled to his feet and pushed past Jason to look his sibling in the face. “What’s wrong, Jase? Can I help?” he demanded, but concern filled his voice.

  His younger brother did not answer him with words, but rather lifted his free left hand to point at the scene in front of them. Kaleb turned to follow the pointing finger and felt his heart turn instantly cold as ice. As far as he knew neither he nor his brother had ever been to this place before, yet it was as familiar to him as his room in the tower. Jason had described it to him enough times.

  Before them stood the broken remains of the base of a huge stone column, mossy green with age; its rounded form blunted by the constant winds buffeting this flattened summit. So huge, it could have provided only scant shelter from a howling nighttime wind. Obviously too big to allow a young boy to be able to grip it if something pulled on him, it would have offered little protection to anyone trying to hide from a flight of angry man-sized dragons. Its ruined mass stood too close to the gaping edge of the Mainland only several manheights away. In the distance to their left across the windswept plateau, as a mighty finger pointed defiantly into the heaven, rose the still-standing massive twin to the ancient column whose ruined base lay now before them.