The Dragon's Back Trilogy

by Robert Dennis Wilson

  “Are you sure you haven’t played this game before?” she asked and the mischievous twinkle had returned to those eyes.

  He left that unanswered, replying instead, “I would be honored to have you hold and examine the gift my GrandSire bestowed on me. I am sure that he, himself, would have granted you the same, were it still in his hands!”

  “Oh, Jason, I had only hoped to get a closer look at the blade, not touch it. I had never even dreamed… Is it even proper for you to give up your sword?”

  “According to the accepted protocol,” said the bard with only a hint of satisfaction that he had now taken over the role of teacher, “a sword may legitimately leave its owner’s hand in one of four ways. First, when thrown down in challenge; second, when offered up in surrender; third, when demanded for an examination by an acknowledged superior; or finally (in the Swimmers’ way), when given up to mark complete openness toward a trusted friend. I have already surrendered to you. I have also been led to believe (and would dare to hope) by your own words that I may call you my ‘friend’! Shanna, please take my sword.”

  Then, as she accepted the privilege he offered, Shoshanna bar-Lot created a never before seen swordsign. Never in the history of Dragonsback had anyone, in receiving an offered sword, done so in the position of kneeling surrender. Though no words were associated with such an action, it filled a scroll with words in Jason’s heart!

  This time it was up to Jason to bend over and gently raise up the supplicant. As he did, however, his glance briefly crossed the barren ground toward the populated playing field. There his eyes instantly locked on the penetrating eyes of another!

  Separated slightly from the spot where his blackrobed minions were huddled, Raven the giant, standing tall and defiant, stared directly at them across the distance. Jason felt, rather than saw, the burning hate emanating from those midnight black orbs.

  As the young bard watched, the Captain of the dragonmen uncrossed the arms he had been clenching across his chest and slowly drew his massive sword. Deliberately, in threat and challenge, he directed that menacing point so that it pointed at the unprotected back of the unsuspecting young woman Jason held in his arms. For Jason, fighting a cold shiver that ran up his spine, had instantly gathered Shanna into his arms (with the bone sword still grasped horizontally between them) and turned her to impose his own form protectively in the path of that threat.

  Ignoring her muffled explanation of surprise, he wrenched his head past the dark curls that had suddenly blocked his view of that evil man. But in that hidden instant the distant giant blackrobe had spun on his heels and rejoined his group, waving his huge sword wildly above his head in an apparent attempt to get their attention.

  “Jason? What are you doing?” asked Shanna softly with just a hint of concern in her voice.

  Only at that moment did Jason realize the impropriety of the appearance of his actions. Yet, in spite of his mounting embarrassment, the young bard felt unwilling to let this young woman totally escape his protection. He reached an internal compromise by taking a quick step backward but keeping a firm grasp on each of her hands (as she held his sword).

  Conviction had tempered the bright red glow that normally would have colored his face. He looked into her eyes and told her softly but firmly, “You said before that you believed that I could see shadows. One just threatened you. I was only trying to put myself between you and it.”

  Shoshanna raised her eyebrows in an expression that questioned this limited explanation, so he offered her more, “Raven, the Captain of the blackrobes, watched from the distance as you took possession of my sword. He then drew his own weapon and pointed it at your unprotected back. I met that challenge by showing him you were under my protection. This is not the first time we have met in battle. By the Gryphon’s help, Nathan and I have successfully met his challenge before. That Dragon spawn will not threaten you while I am near!”

  As he spoke the color drained from Shanna’s face. Quickly she returned to the position she had questioned only moments before. Jason willingly released his sword to wrap her in his arms once more. The open blade between them reminded the young bard to keep his perspective clear and focused, in spite of his very distracting circumstances!

  Because of this, he detected the wisps of wicked laughter that drifted across the field to them from the gathered blackrobes. He glanced briefly in their direction long enough to confirm that every one of them was leering in their direction.

  Releasing her with his left arm, he turned Shanna away from the verbal abuse and again used his own body as a living barrier. The dragonmen were positioned to his left, the Swimmers straight ahead. He turned his head to the right only to find the young woman totally engrossed in the object she held in her hands.

  Thankfully, he observed to himself, she is so interested in that sword (now that she can finally see it) that she hasn’t even heard the noise from that filth!

  He did not want to break her thoughts, so uttered no command. Silently and gently he directed her forward with the right arm he still had around her back. Whether consciously or not, she again allowed her head to lean against his shoulder while they walked.

  Of all those under the banner of the Gryphon, only Joannah saw the two young people arrive. Jason knew this because her penetrating and watchful eyes found his while they were still many steps away. He knew also that he and Shoshanna must have made a strange sight to the girl’s mother. He walked without permission with his arm around her daughter and, if that were not bad enough, her daughter walked, as if in a trance, gazing at a sword – not her own – that she cradled in her hands as though it were a treasure as precious as life.

  Jason, however, did not flinch from that scrutinizing parental gaze but met it with serious composure and strength of purpose. Deliberately and respectfully he nodded his head to her ever so slightly, then turned to look in the direction of the blackrobe army. Joannah must have followed his gaze and instantly recognized the unwanted attention focused on that solitary couple, for when Jason again found her eyes, her expression had altered drastically.

  The furrowed brow of scrutiny had been replaced with eyes wide with fear. He met that worried gaze as well with humble confidence and firm assurance. Then, for an instant, he raised his eyes to look reverently upward into the physically empty sky.

  When he lowered his gaze to hers again he saw that the fear there had all melted away. Joannah too now exuded confidence. A motherly smile graced her lips and brought regal beauty to her features. Their eyes locked again. Then, like a monarch granting silent blessing, she slowly bowed her head in his direction.

  Having gratefully acknowledged his protection, Shoshanna’s mother lifted her eyes once more to greet the young bard as he and her daughter entered the company of Swimmers.

  Jason marveled at the whole process. Joannah had questioned his motives; he, in turn, had offered a full explanation of his actions, and she had heaped praise on him for his gallantry. Yet not a word had been spoken! And none had been needed.

  With a strangely familiar twinkle in her eye and a conspiratorial wink for his enlightenment, Joannah smartly addressed her totally engrossed daughter, “Young lady, are you always in the habit of walking around carrying swords that don’t belong to you, especially swords of strange young men?”

  With the first “young lady” Shoshanna had started so much that she nearly dropped the object of her attention.

  Turning a darker shade of red than Jason thought possible, his startled friend could only manage to stutter, “What? How? Where?” Then she turned to look first accusingly and then pleading eyes at the straight-faced young man who held her in his arm. As though realizing that her physical proximity to him also was cause for alarm, she straightened abruptly and shook off that former support. She did not, however, look in the direction of the woman who rebuked her but lowered her head to look at her feet.

  Obviously having trouble keeping a straight face, Joannah’s second wink to Jason assured his c
ontinued (yet somewhat unwilling) silence. Somewhere deep inside he felt a twinge of regret for his part in this conspiracy. It reminded him of something he had seen take place around a young thorntree.

  “Don’t look to that young man for an explanation, young lady!” continued her mother in mock sternness. “Him I didn’t raise for sixteen years, so have no control over his actions. What I do want to know is, ‘What do you have to say for yourself?’”

  Her composure somewhat regained, Shanna raised her eyes to face her mother. Quietly, but with sudden conviction in her voice, she started her defense, “Mother, in spite of present appearances, I promise you that nothing wrong has happened. Jason only allowed me to examine his sword because I was so interested in seeing up close his GrandSire’s marvelous craftsmanship. He then detected a threat to my person, so offered his…”

  “Dear, Shanna,” said her mother softly, but with enough force to cut off her attempt at explanation, “save your words. Don’t you know yet that I both love you and trust you implicitly? Your escort has already fully explained your situation to me and I have exonerated both of you from all fault! I will be forever grateful that Jason kept you from harm!”

  The look of absolute bewilderment that crossed Shoshanna’s face at the mention of this mysterious conversation, from which she had somehow been excluded, caused both of her tormentors to suddenly break out laughing.

  “Mother!” she exclaimed, then suddenly turned to the laughing young bard. “Jason! You too? You two! Both of you together? I don’t know how, but I might have known!”

  Jason had the distinct impression from the look she gave him that, had Shanna not been holding the precious blade in her hand, he would have endured a very strong punch to his upper right arm.

  Instead, she turned toward him and, with a slight curtsey, graciously offered back to him his GrandSire’s heritage. As soon as he had put the blade away she returned to his side. Then, instead of inflicting well-deserved pain, she lightly and lovingly gripped his upper arm with both hands as she had done earlier.

  At once Jason raised his eyebrows requesting approval for this intimacy from her mother.

  Shanna, however, took that occasion to demonstrate her newly granted independence with the words, “My mother has said that she trusts me implicitly. If you have no objection, Jason, I wish to hold the arm of my new protector.”

  Joannah laughed and matter-of-factly shrugged her shoulders. Jason heard her unspoken words as clearly as if she had shouted them out loud, “It’s out of my hands now, son. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into!”

  “I think I do. At least I hope I do!” he confessed to the mother of the woman on his arm and then reached up to place his free left hand securely over those two softer ones entwined on his arm.

  Joannah’s only response? A knowing smile under a silent wink.

  Perplexed Shanna, looked between the two of them and shook her head. “What…?”

  THE LESSER GAMES

  “Let me see if I have this straight,” Jason asked Shanna later that morning. “The Great Games we’re looking forward to right after lunch are actually a competition between two or more huge combined teams. But before the Great Games can be run, each of those teams has to compete among themselves to see who will represent them. For these preliminary qualification rounds, each of the big teams divides into sub-groups and actually battle each other! Even when they’re on the same team!”

  “That’s right so far. Have you figured out the purpose of the boards that were brought to the party?”

  “Well, I definitely found out why they call this a party. There was so much shouting and cheering and hoopla during the Children’s Games that it made my head hurt! I can only imagine that the next phase with the adults will be only worse. By the time the Finals are done this evening, I’ll probably be stone deaf!”

  “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised. The rules change quite a bit for the Finals. But what about the wooden planks?”

  “Well, if the children’s Straw Games are any indication, the boards will be used (like the bales were) to build platforms (but this much I had already figured out first thing this morning). What I didn’t know until I saw the children playing is that the groups with the platforms are not stationary but mobile and that their physical mobility is an integral part of the game. On top of that – (or should I say ‘On top of them’) – sits or stands the small team’s champion. Carrying their leaders, the sub-teams run at each other, trying either to knock one another down or at least to dislodge the other team’s champion! Their ultimate goal seemed to be to capture the flag that the opposing champion held.”

  The two of them stood just outside of the Swimmer’s circle watching as the men and women pounded the last of their planks into place with huge mallets and wooden spikes. Shanna had earlier called this process “hammering out a platform.” She now pulled Jason with her inside the circle. The adult members of the team parted to let the young people examine their handiwork.

  The construct did indeed look very sturdy to Jason, though he had no frame of reference to compare it to. Using long planks half a hand in thickness and two hands broad, the builders had used their beams to construct an oblong rectangle five to six manheights in length and three or four wide. The platform resembles a huge wooden box that had been turned upside down. The knee-high sides of this inverted box, he imagined, helped protect the supporters underneath after they raised the structure to their shoulders. The small horizontal gaps between the boards allowed those underneath to see, breathe, and communicate with their champion above.

  “It looks very sturdy!” exclaimed Shoshanna, offering the proper praise to her elders. “I hope many of your planks survive to the final construction!”

  “With the Gryphon’s help they will!” exclaimed one of the adults.

  His words unlocked a floodgate of shouts and joyful commotion from the Swimmers: “To the Gryphon’s glory!” or “To the glory of His Son!” After much effort, the fruit of their labor now lay complete at their feet. The men slapped each other on the back in congratulations for a job well done. The women leaned past the children on their hips to offer each other quick hugs.

  Someone must have passed out banners and triangular flags for at that moment a forest of cloth-bearing poles were lifted into the sky throughout the group. A great cheer rose from the Swimmers as the golden seal of the Gryphon appeared on the face of those fluttering crimson banners. Other groups across the Playing Field also raised up competing shouts and signified their readiness by raising their own colors.

  In the Children’s Games, Jason remembered, each team had also raised a flag just before the start, but there, each group only had one flag. Somehow he knew that pieces of cloth were not the objective in this grownup competition.

  “Jason!” Shanna leaned close and shouted to be heard above the growing noise. “Quickly take a closer look at those boards before they pick up the platform!” She then pushed him forward and let loose of his arm.

  To his surprise, Jason found words chiseled into the surface of the first board. It read “Hipboot waders will not be given to school children without parents’ consent.” Looking at the other boards he realized that each of those that he could see in his brief examination carried a different statement clearly and precisely carved into its wood!

  “We need to get back now!” Shanna shouted as she leaned down to pull backward on his arm. “It’s almost time for the competition and we don’t want to get trampled! Let’s go!” Then she released him and sprinted lightly away.

  As Jason followed her quick retreat from the circle toward the canyon wall, they gradually moved beyond the deafening roar of the teams gathered for the central right-bank party. (Across the River the left-bankers also added their share to the overall ruckus.) He caught up with the young woman from Scalina (no easy task) and, running beside her, managed to ask, “I thought Nathan told me that the Great Games were not a spectator sport, yet it looks like the whole v
alley wall is lined with watching people. Most of them are clearly old enough to participate. Who is that crowd and what are they doing there? There’s so many of them!”

  “My Dad calls them ‘Mute Moaners’ – those who silently watch what happens until the Games are over, then groan and complain about the results as they leave! Some stand upon the wall ‘cause they failed to sign up for a party invitation. Others just don’t want to get involved.”

  Shanna stopped when they reached the straw-covered play area where they had met earlier that morning. The Mute Moaners were still a little distance away, which pleased Jason. He had never felt comfortable around complainers. (That had even included his own brother at times!) Before they turned to watch the festivities behind them, the young bard caught a glint of gold among the watchers.

  “Shanna?” he asked taking her hand as they did an about-face, “are there many Swimmers among all those people standing by the wall? I thought I saw a Gryphon’s crest on one of their ‘skins.”

  A look of sadness crossed her face and Jason almost regretted having asked his question.

  “My Dad told me, ‘Mos’ o’ those lazy lumps be Swimmers. Iffin they’d only show their colors we’d have an army t’ shake the Dragon!’ I guess you’d say he’s not too happy with them!”

  In spite of the seriousness of her words, Jason could not help snickering at the accurate manner in which she mimicked the gruff voice of her father. However, the look his reaction prompted from her immediately straightened his face.

  “I’m sorry, Shanna,” he offered in his most placating voice, “It’s just I wasn’t expecting you to talk so deep and raspy like that. I think any man would react if the woman whose hand he held started talking to him in her father’s voice!”