The Dragon's Back Trilogy

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The Dragon's Back Trilogy Page 57

by Robert Dennis Wilson


  Tears flowed down Kaleb’s cheeks as he agreed with the truth his own memory revealed, "An army or a monster that our childish eyes couldn't even see! An army of dragons! What am I to do? I caused the death of an innocent man! I’ve become the one thing I’ve hated all of my life!"

  “Kaleb, you must always remember this! The dragons caused the death of our parents. They were Swimmers when they entered the water for the first time that day. But the enemies of the Gryphon held them under the waves until their life was stolen away. They were not lost in the depths, however! Nathan told me he saw the eagles escorting them to the Gryphon’s Land! We will see them again someday soon. With them, we will see Thaddeus the carver, our GrandSire who loved us so much.

  “Kaleb? Do you know who else we will see?”

  But Kaleb could not answer for cleansing tears had washed away his words.

  “We will see our friend Nathan the Bard!”

  Kaleb groaned and managed to whisper, “How will I ever be able to face him?”

  “You will be able to face him because he has never carried any thorns in your name. He will on that day welcome you as a son and tell you what I am telling you now, that you were not responsible for his death! The dragons slew him! And they could do that only because they had the Gryphon’s permission to do so! Nathan gladly gave that gift so that you might know the truth. And now you will take his place at my side in the fight that lies before us! The eagles returned his pack to me, plucked from the sea for a purpose. I claim as mine his lute and pipe, but his shellbowl, his sword carved by our GrandSire’s hand, and his second waterskin, the bag of adoption marked with the seal of the Gryphon: these I place in your hands to carry as your own.

  “Don’t you see, my dear brother, you will gladly face Nathan on that future day for, by your tireless effort, you will have strengthened his legacy and won much glory for the Gryphon in his name. And Kaleb, you also will be able to face him because you will have learned to look into the face of the Swimmer-Son, Who drowned beneath the falls to take away all the chains that bind you with fear and all the scars of thorns falsely worn!

  “And about the blood on your hands? Don’t you realize that the blood of Another, the Eternal Innocent, has covered you and washed away all previous stains? Your guilt has been paid for; you are free!

  “Thank you, Jason,” countered Kaleb with a newfound softness in his voice, “but, you have no sword and your hand is surely much more trained in the use of this weapon than mine. From what we have seen lately on Dragonsback, we will need that skill a lot!” So saying, (after briefly looking with awe at the craftsmanship involved) he gently handed the wondrous blade back to his younger brother.

  “Is it true?” asked the older of the two fishermen, a white-bearded patriarch with skin turned to dark brown leather by a lifetime on the Sea. (Both of their rescuers had been silent for most of the trip toward the mainland, but now the old man, grinning as though it would split his face, obviously had something to say.) “Are ye’ then the missing grandsons o’ my dear ol’ friend Thaddeus? And you two jus’ dropped out o, heaven like that on a clear-blue day? Well, I reckon he’d looked about every place else fer ye’! Praise the Gryphon!”

  Having said that, the old sailor nodded to his younger companion, a man not much older than Kaleb, topped with a bushy crop of orange-red hair. The mate reached into a long cabinet built into the side of their vessel and removed a long cloth-bound bundle. Carefully he handed this over to the white-haired sailor.

  As the elderly fisherman unwrapped the bundle, he told them, “Any-who, we couldn’t he’p but hear ye’ say that one of ye’ be a needin’ a new sword. ‘Twas our honor t’ be amongst thems what supplied the bounty o’ the Gryphon’s Sea t’that master carver yer related to. He did have a mighty way with bone, Praise the Gryphon! Any-who, since ‘is death, we’ve had no ‘un t’ take an’ use our tusks an’ bone. I’d be right proud t’ both lend ye’ an extra sword I have an’ t’ give ye’ a bran’ new tusk, soes ye’ can get a new blade made up proper. I trust the Gryphon that ‘E’s made one o’ you two a carver to follow the hand o’ yer GrandSire? If so, y’ can ‘ave all the bone y’ need. All we ask is that ye’ jus’ whittle us some pretty presents for our wives now an’ then!”

  Dumbstruck by the hospitality and generosity of these strangers, Kaleb could hardly find words to give them proper thanks. The dialect of thankfulness had found a new pupil, who, however willing, temporarily found its grammar hard to master.

  “I, uh, don’t know what to say. You knew our GrandSire? That’s great! He, uh, left me his tools. And, you’re right, I want to be a carver just like him, but (not knowing the Gryphon until today), all I’ve ever worked with till now has been scaline. I look forward to learning how to carve in a way that will please my new Master! I only hope I can carve as well as you two are able to fish things (and flying people) out of the Sea! Uh, thank you!”

  Then Jason, his twice-born brother, and the two fishermen talked of many things: concerning thorns and castles, eagles and Gryphons, and swimming the Sea unafraid.

  The Dew of the Morning, offered by their two fisher friends, at last, brought light to darkened eyes!

  The nascent Swimmer willingly took off his weighty pack, opening it in their supporting presence, so that most of its dragon-cursed contents could be cast away, to sink forever into the unreachable depths of the eternal sea.

  IN HIS TIME

  In His Hands,

  In His Time,

  In His Will –

  Are great plans

  So sublime:

  Wait! Be Still!

  Circumstance

  [Will be stymied

  And nill]

  Can’t withstand

  What He’s primed

  To fulfill.

  Not by Chance

  Paradigms

  Change and Thrill!

  It’s His Hands,

  It’s His Time,

  It’s His Will!

  THE BELT THAT BINDS

  In the Great Game, the left-bankers had garnered an overwhelming victory. In fact, the battle for the central position ended almost before it had begun. With the large “BOOM!” of the first great clash of the two platforms, the right-bank raft had splintered into many pieces, almost as though all of the connecting supports had vanished. Their champions fell into the water, never to be seen again.

  Shouts of “Sabotage!” and “Infiltrators!” echoed through the defeated camp. Never in the history of the Great Games had such an event occurred where the usually night-long event ended in an instant. Never before had a platform disintegrated upon the first contact. Fingers were pointed at each other, tempers flared, and thorns gathered.

  This outcome followed exactly the plans dictated by the Dark Queen of the Dragonmen. The blackrobes followed-up by promoting this crushing (manipulated) victory as a mandate to exact retribution on all the “intolerant Swimmers, who try to take away our freedom!”.

  So, immediately following the death of Nathan the Swimmer-bard, a time of great persecution for all Swimmers arose in the Heartland. The riot of Sinsinatti repeated itself elsewhere with equally severe precision and orchestrated deadly consequences.

  When the brothers and their rescuers attempted to land, they found that Mann’s Pointe had suddenly become an openly hostile place for all Swimmers. They were repelled at sword point by an angry mob shouting dire threats against any who would dare to wear a Gryphonskin. “You Swimmers destroyed our town!” shouted the mob ferociously guarding their docks. “Land here and we will destroy you! You people are all murderers! You deserve to die!” Spears and rocks and thorns then filled the air along with the hostile words. The barrage forced the fishermen to flee to the relative safety of the open Bay.

  A cursory examination of the floating shantytown (even when conducted from the low decks of the fishing craft sailing swiftly away from the port) revealed a community in ruins. Clearly, many of the floating shacks had been demolished and dark watery
gaps appeared where not a few of the platforms had once been secured.

  Sudden fear assaulted the normally brave heart of Jason the bard, for he could think of only one way in which Swimmers could have caused such extensive damage. “We have to land somewhere nearby and get up to Scalina immediately!” he told his companions but would reveal no more, not wishing to give voice to a suspicion so horrible that it crushed the very breath out of his chest.

  “Shanna! Gryphon, please protect my Shanna!” he pleaded in desperate silence.

  Further south in a secluded cove, the brothers were safely put ashore. Jason was about to bid farewell and Gryphonspeed to their new friends, when Kaleb surprised him by asking, “Brothers, I know that I, of all people, have no right to claim the title of a follower of the Gryphon’s Son. I have been a hater of all who bore His skin of adoption and have participated in the deaths of three different men (for I have no doubt now that my harsh rejection of our GrandSire hastened his trip over the Bridge and my persistent bitterness toward the innocent Swimmer, Nathan, led the Dragonmen right to him!). However, it seems that this one you call the Simmer-Son has plans for me. He has seen fit to open my eyes and show me the reality of the Dragon I once followed. Then, when in desperation I called out to Him, He saw fit to hear me and to send His eagles to rescue me from certain death. Jase – all those times when I rebuked you for dreamin’ that the dragons were throwing you off the top of Dragonshead – and then it happened, just like in your dream, ‘cept I got thrown off too!”

  “It’s alright, Kaleb, you didn’t know…” interjected Jason, but his brother cut him off.

  “No, Jase, please let me finish. I should have known it was true, but I was too hardhearted and stubborn! I was too poisoned by thorns, but by the Gryphon’s love and power, I know that something has changed in me. The thorns and the poison are gone. He has cleansed me, I who only ever wanted to bow before His enemy, who gladly accepted the black rags of the dragonmen. I don’t know how or why, but I know that I’ve been changed. The new me that you kept from sinking while I was unconscious, the forgiven me that these two friends fished out of the sea, this changed man that has feared even the thought of the sea since I saw it claim our parents…” and tears were streaming down his face as he obviously struggled to say his next words. “Jason, there is water, is there any reason why I can’t take my First (conscious) Swim right now? I want the Swimmer and the entire world to know that I belong fully to Him!”

  “Brother,” replied the bard, “it would be my honor to accompany you off the edge of the Dragon!”

  And so the two sons of Timnon and Anna, now brothers indeed, took each other’s hand and, winking at each other, turned and walked away from the shore into the bottomless deep. Pivoting as they reached the face of the escarpment, Jason recited out loud with growing excitement in his voice, “In the name of the Gryphon, the name of His Son, in the name of the Eagle, let us prove what He’s done!”

  And before he finished, both brothers took off at a full sprint toward the dark water.

  As he leaped out as far as he could from the false security of the Dragon, Kaleb shouted with all his strength, “Into Your hands!!!”

  ~ ~ ~

  A short time later the two laughing Swimmers climbed, dripping wet, back into the welcoming and congratulatory arms of the two fishermen. The older of the old salts commented, “Well I can’t say that I’ve ever seen it done quite that way afore, but neither with more joy either! I guess iffen you’re been thrown off the top of the Dragon, a little hop an’ a jump into the deep aren’t much to do about, at all!”

  So the fishermen headed their sturdy craft back out to sea while the brothers waved goodbye to them and then set about putting into place Jason’s desperate scheme. After their rescue, Kaleb had removed his blackrobe garment in favor of an ivory-colored tunic with a single thin brown stripe on its narrow sleeve. His GrandSire’s gift had been returned to him with thanks from his younger brother who had shared how it had probably saved his life.

  Now, at Jason’s request, he again wore black. The young bard, however, with his ‘skin of adoption safely hidden away, wore seemingly tight bound ropes around his wrists.

  In this way, as blackrobe guard and captured prisoner, they cautiously marched along the bottom face of the escarpment, skirting the very edge of the Dragon. Aided by the early twilight customary for the eastern coast, they slipped unchallenged past the now rioting town. It appeared that the good citizens of the floating town had decided to extract compensation for their injuries from their richer, land-borne brethren. This night, the necklace of burning lights around the base of the Tower Bridge, would be exceptionally bright and no longer contained in lamps.

  Guard and prisoner avoided Mann’s Pointe altogether by scrambling directly up the steep slope that bordered the Road as it began its climb up the sheer side of the Dragon. Nor were they challenged as they passed under the Arch of the First Parents. The workers who were not engaged in the festivities in town were much too busy protecting their precious Bridge from the encroaching conflagration.

  “Change back to your other tunic!” with a rush Jason commanded his brother as they passed beyond the line of sight of any curious eyes. “We don’t want to frighten any of those we need to help!”

  Quickly stowing away his own pseudo bonds, he shouted, “Now brother, run! Run with me to Scalina and may the Gryphon’s breath fill our lungs and lighten our feet, for I fear what we will find!”

  More than halfway up the Mountain Road to their objective they rounded a switchback bend to find a dazed and injured young boy sobbing uncontrollably as he limped down the mountainside. His worst fears realized, Jason recognized him as William, the eight or nine-year-old son of Tony the Baker. The Gryphon’s Dew from Kaleb’s ‘skin revived the boy enough for them to hear his ghastly tale.

  “My Pa is dead! Killed by the men in black!” he sobbed. “So’s the other men, all of ‘em! Iffen they knew the Gryphon…they came and cut ‘em down with sharpened swords! They beat our Mom’s, and… and… I can’t tell ya’ what they did! It was horrible! To the girls too! Then they shoved us all out the gate an’ told us to leave!”

  William started crying so hard at that point that he couldn’t go on. Jason pulled him close to comfort him while he wept.

  After a bit, prompted by concern for the others, Jason gingerly intruded through the boy’s wall of tears. “William? What happened to the others? How did you get separated from your Mom?”

  William pushed himself away from the bard and turned his head so they could no longer see his expression. After a moment he whispered. “Mom always said what was on her mind. As they were shovin’ us out the Gate she told the man in black that she wanted to tend to Dad’s body an’ that it wasn’t decent to send folks away from their homes with only the clothes on their backs…”

  He paused again and his breathing labored as though he were fighting a supreme battle to utter the next few words. When he finally spoke, they could barely hear him at all. “Then the man in black said, ‘Oh, we must’ve forgotten… to take those from you!’ And he and the others like him laughed as he tore the clothes off of her and, and threw her over the edge of the Road, saying, ‘We… We already sent your husband’s body over the edge, but you can tend it down there!’

  “Oh, William, that’s horrible!” both brothers exclaimed and tears were flowing from their eyes as well.

  But the youth had started his story and wanted to finish it while he still had the will to talk, “They were forcin’ everybody to head up the Mountain, but I broke away and ran down to see if… if I… could find her! But she must’ve fallen all the way to the Sea. What am I gonna’ do? Where can I go? They killed both my Mum and Dad an’ I got nobody else!”

  Jason gripped the boy tightly in his arms as the orphan shook with great sobs of pain.

  “No, William,” Kaleb said with conviction and love in his voice when silence again returned, “You are not alone. You have us! We were orphans, t
oo. But now we’re your older brothers and we would never leave you alone!”

  To this Jason wholeheartedly agreed.

  ~ ~ ~

  That first time of trouble that so scarred the Heartland lasted but a few short weeks, till, by the Gryphon’s grace, the government stepped in and restored order and a façade of sanity to the cities. The Swimmers who lived out in the countryside near the farmlands escaped most of the persecution and so were able to come to the aid of their wounded sisters and few remaining brothers.

  The story of the next few weeks will have to remain, for now, an unspoken parenthesis, a hidden valley between the mountains of Dragonsback. How the three travelers won past the hostile Gates of Scalina during the night; how they met up at last with Joannah’s beleaguered and desperate band; how they escorted them to safety and then, at last, to secure dwelling in the large house that Nathan’s father had built: all these will have to wait for their telling. They are part of another Song.

  One part only of that tale must be told now: the claiming of ravished Shoshanna.

  When finally the three travelers caught up to the decimated band of refugees from Scalina, Shoshanna was overwhelmed to see Jason alive. But then she dropped his sword, turned from him, and hid her eyes while she shook with great sobs of shame and pain. Nothing he said (and as a bard, he had a great way with words) could dissuade her from hiding behind her wall of grief. Until…

  Jason gathered up the fallen blade, carved by the hand of Thaddeus, his GrandSire. Setting aside Nathan’s blade from the scabbard at his side, he loosened the wide brown sash that bound it to him and attached to it the scabbard in which he had placed his GrandSire’s sword. Silently he sought Joannah’s eyes and with a question filling his own, lifted the sash for her inspection.

 

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