Chapter Three
Iradaemi scrutinized the snow below her. Her gray wings melting into the grey clouds that hung low over the Vaulwar Mountains. She enjoyed this part of her duties. The patrols along the eastern borders of the dragon held lands. She caught a glimpse of movement and silently swung down for a closer look. Satisfied that it was only a mountain goat she regained her original altitude. Iradaemi’s hunger had been sated only hours ago and the need to feed would not present itself for days yet.
The dragons were at war with the humans that dwelt in the Braebach Kingdom. The dragons had been more than able to withstand any invasion of their mountain holdfasts. Their rugged, mountainous and desolate lands were of use only to the winged reptiles. The war had not always been. There had been a time when a peace had stood between the draconic races and the human kinds.
The peace had been broken shortly after King Illiad’s father had died. With his rise to the throne had come begun the descent of the kingdom once the crown of the Den’dra continent. Legends of an older time ignited a search for ways of regaining their old glory. One way the humans had sought to do this was to tame dragons. Naturally they chose to steal the fabled dragon eggs and hatch mindless domestic beasts. Humankind had woefully underestimated dragon kind. The men were struck dead before they had crossed out of the eternal winter snows and the eggs had been returned to the caldera where they were warmed by heat from the bowels of the earth. Born of fire and earth but masters of the air. Mankind had made numerous attempts over the intervening years but had failed every time.
Humans never knew what they faced. They assumed that the giant creatures had been merely a race of winged predators. That they had no more intelligence than the instincts for survival imparted. They conducted their attacks as such. First came the hunting parties. Many of these were lost to the Vaulwar Mountain’s fury. Any hatchling could have triggered the cascades of snow and ice that buried many humans. Unwilling to soil their lands with the corpses come spring the dragons had dropped the hapless hunters into the fiery heart of the smoking mountain.
Despairing of success after many fruitless expeditions into the white mountains where perpetual winter reigned sparked a new tactic. Armed groups of a few dozen made raids into the dragon realm. These the dragons took a more direct hand in eliminating. Survivors escaped and told of the horrors that prowled the mountains. Human kind declared a war and attempted to settle their fears with violence. Dragons had an edge over the invading armies. A single dragon was capable of more violence than a hundred men. A dozen of the King’s advisors were not a match for the scaly warrior's cunning. Fear was a prominent weapon in their arsenals. Be it a roar in the night to a silent shadow that decimated half a camp in the blink of an eye. The legends spread and strengthened with the whispers of the survivors.
Dragon kind retained this advantage and used it to great effect. Every army that had marched against them had failed. Braebach abounded with legends told about hearths in hushed voices. A couple dozen years had not dimmed the terror that could inspired by high flight over a human settlement. Humankind remained land bound bereft of their beasts of burden and war. Illiad contented himself with waging war on the other lands not under his rule. The dragons resisted any incursion and the elves to the south were not any more willing to countenance any such outrage.
Iradaemi and a handful of other dragons patrolled the border frequently as much to scare any curious humans as to catch any foolish interlopers. People still made ill-fated ventures across the border for the dragon eggs. Be they agents of the cursed King or starry eyed young men out to make a name for themselves as dragon tamers. Even if they slipped past the patrols they still had to make it past the hunting dragons in the mountains and the she dragons that protected their young and unhatched offspring. No one had made it to the hot rocks in the crater deep inside the Vaulwar in many years.
Iradaemi was about to conclude her patrol when she heard a sound. Carried by the cold breezes up the mountain Iradaemi’s keen ears heard a thin wail. The gray dragon silently glided down the slope until she found the source of the cry. In a sheltered gap between two stands of trees there was a patch of grass that had survived the fall frosts. Winter snows had yet to bury the tall grasses. At first glance Iradaemi didn’t see anything. It was only after the second pass that she spied the child.
Iradaemi sniffed the air and didn’t detect any other humans upwind. A circuitous path around the hillside didn’t reveal a trace of a scent. Landing in the meadow she looked around cautiously. She wouldn’t put it past humans to try a trick to capture a dragon. What they intended to do with her and her fire breathe was their problem if they managed the feat. The woods had high limbs and thin trunks so hiding was not easily achieved. Deciding that the child was alone Iradaemi settled into the meadow softly.
Lumbering over Iradaemi brushed the grass away with her snout. She had no illusions about what must be done. The harsh fate of the child had not been decided by her. Human savages, Iradaemi thought to herself. No dragon would abandon a hatchling like this. Even deformed hatchlings if they lived through their first molting were not abandoned. Several assisted with tasks like helping the brooding she dragons or others worked at the dragon towers where the hibernations took place.
It was the face of an infant girl that revealed itself to Iradaemi. The child quieted as it looked up at the dragon. Iradaemi gazed for a moment with pity. What she was about to do was a mercy in her mind. The child would not survive the night and she planned to make its death as brief and painless as possible. The she dragon spread the claws on a fore limb and drew back in preparation for the strike. She paused as she sensed that something was not as it should be.
Iradaemi leaned back down and took a deep breath of the child’s essence. Her eyes widened in shock. The human child had the smell of a dragon hatchling about her. It is not possible. It has to be a trick. Iradaemi stepped back and tried to think of what to do. Looking back at the child she wondered how this could have happened. The human clearly had dragon blood. How this had happened was beyond Iradaemi’s imagination.
Iradaemi pondered what she should do and finally decided that she should present the child to the elders. Carefully cradling the baby against her bosom she protected it from the cold wind. Flight was slow and clumsy but eventually Iradaemi soared over the mountains and into the dragon towers. She glided into the yawning cave and settled carefully to her feet. She held the child delicately with the claws of one forelimb and walked on her other three legs.
As soon as she had landed a small dragon had rushed to her side. Less than half Iradaemi’s size the other dragon was full grown of sixty years. A deformed wing prevented flight so the dragon lived in the towers helping the other dragons.
“Are you injured?” The reddish dragon queried.
“I am fine but I must see the elders.” The reddish dragon gave Iradaemi’s paw and its hidden parcel one last curious glance before leading the way. The cave dwindled in size and led far into the heart of the mountain. After a while it opened into a huge cavern. Fires warmed the air and shed light on the council chambers of the dragons. The reddish dragon replenished a couple of the fires at they passed. It irked Iradaemi that her guide didn’t share her impatience for an audience.
“Wait here.” The reddish dragon left Iradaemi sitting near one of the fires while he walked to the three dragons in the center of the room. She waited until the reddish dragon had returned.
“They will see you now.” Iradaemi stalked over to the three elders. After taking care of the pleasantries she went straight to the point.
“I found a human child.” Iradaemi opened her claws and carefully laid the sleeping child on the stones before her. The contact with the cold earth woke the child.
“I thought I smelled a human about you. What is the meaning of this? Humans have tried stealing our young for years. Do we now steal their’s?” Rothlt glared down at the child. He was a larger than normal black dragon. As the oldest living el
der he was looked to as the leader of dragon kind.
“This child was abandoned. She would have died if not for me finding her.” Iradaemi realized how ridiculous her words were. Only a short while ago she had planned on squashing the child like an annoying insect and now she was trying to protect it.
“Any other dragon would have ended its suffering but you saved it. Why?” Iradaemi was about to answer Rothlt’s question.
“There is dragon blood in this human.” Ovesa a pale green dragon spoke. “I can smell it on her. The legends are true.”
“It is true.” Rothlt agreed. “Dragon kind has not always been as we are now. There was once a time when some of our kind were able to shift between the form of humankind and dragon kind. They could walk among humans or master the skies. This power was lost to us many years ago. Perhaps it is possible that one of these Dragon Lords survived and now the gift had returned in this child.”
“The ancient runes speak of the return of the dragon king who is a Dragon Lord.” Ovesa spoke again.
“The runes speak of the dragon king not queen. This is clearly a girl.” A dragon that looked a shade between yellow and blue spoke next.
“Even if this is not the Dragon Lord spoken of, it is possible that this is his mate.” Ovesa offered an option.
“No matter who she is, we must protect her.” Rothlt pondered the child. “If this is truly a Dragon Lord, only time will tell. We should not ignore any possibility that the dragon lords have returned to us.
“We cannot raise her.” Iradaemi was forced to agree with Ovesa’s statement. “The child requires food that we cannot give.”
“We could give her to the elves. They are capable of caring for her.” The third elder offer his idea.
“They dislike the humans as much as we do. They would never raise a human child.” Iradaemi had seen several battles between the two land bound races. They didn’t battle along their shared border simply because neither had any desire for what the other held.
“We have a peace with the elves. This is not to say that they are allies let alone that we would trust them with the rearing of a possible Dragon Lord.” Rothlt settled down on his haunches and rested his chin on his crossed fore limbs.
“This leaves us with humans. They were the ones that abandoned her in the first place.” Ovesa mused. “How could we ever trust them with raising her?”
“We could bring a human female here to raise the child. We would be able to protect the child. The female could be returned to her kind after the child is grown old enough.” The third elder spoke quietly.
“And let her take all our secrets with her? That would not work. We could always dispose of her but that that brings its own problems.” Rothlt dismissed the idea. “The probability that we could capture one without killing her with fright or injury is slim at best. Besides that, humans are a fragile race. I have seen some fall dead simply from seeing us let alone being captured. Those we tried to capture took their own lives.”
“It does give me an idea though. Below the snowline is a new human settlement. We had no use for the valley they colonize so our patrols left them alone. The mountains on the other side of the valley could be said to be part of the Vaulwar Mountains. We could place the child in that settlement.” Iradaemi offered a new option.
“That might work if we severed their contact with the Braebach Empire.” Ovesa agreed with Iradaemi.
“Humans never do anything without gain or fear.” Rothlt stood. “We will give them both. Zhel, bring me a sack and our softest skins.” In short manner the child was securely stowed in the warm skins and protected from the frigid mountain air.
The legends of the dragon lords had persisted for thousands of years. Few were the dragons that remained from that time and dim was the memory of the dragons that walked as men. Of these Rothlt was the only one not hibernating. The mention of the legend and the appearance of the great black dragon had been all that was needed to convince all the guard patrol of the plan. Rothlt, Iradaemi and three of the dragons from the patrol were now circling high above the aforementioned human settlement.
*****
Encer stretched his back. Today he had been helping one of the villagers in his town finish their house. Winter was coming and with it snows and cold winds. This valley was sheltered from the worst but it was still subject to the Vaulwar’s fury from time to time. There were no more than a couple dozen people that had been convinced to come. Most were young couples like the ones he helped today. They had come with the promise of land and rich soil. No one had farmed these lands for generations. Even before the dragon wars no one had felt comfortable this close to the draconic kingdom. Lesser sons of freemen with no hope of inheriting even a pitiful scrap of land comprised most of the company. There were a couple who dodged the law and had seized the opportunity to leave the Braebach Empire with their skins intact. In reality, they hadn’t left it, only were in a place that was rarely frequented.
The reason that there were no previous inhabitants occasionally could be seen soaring through the sky on clear days. Encer had fought in the dragon war and had seen the majestic creatures up close. Only then they had been whirling creatures of death. After numerous battles he had come to an appreciation of the creature’s intelligence. The platoon he had been with had fallen into ambush on countless occasions. Their commander had maintained that the dragons were mere predators but Encer believed differently. On the day that a dragon had silently dropped out of a thick fog and slain the commander Encer had watched as the black creature had ignored any who fled and crushed any who threatened him. Encer had seen intelligence in the eyes of that dragon that day.
He now hoped that his beliefs were not unfounded. After the main dragon campaigns had crumbled, Encer had left the army and returned to this valley. He had called his settlement Dragon’s Hamlet. The name didn’t alleviate the fears of the people but it felt right to Encer. The people that had followed him frequently looked to the skies expecting a flight of ravenous dragons would fall on them. So far the dragons had seemed to ignore them thus increasing Encer’s belief that the dragons didn’t consider the tiny settlement a threat and were content to ignore them.
Today the clouds hung just above the valley casting everything in a gray light. Encer returned to work peeling a log. The walls were finished and a ridge beam was needed. There were already several thin poles that would support the roof once the ridge beam had been muscled in place. This house was among the last to be finished. The winter snows were threatening and so Encer helped finish making it habitable.
The pole was almost peeled when a sharp eyed villager screamed out the warning. Looking to the sky Encer’s heart skipped a beat. Five dragons were circling lower and lower beneath the clouds. The plan was that should there be a dragon attack that everyone was supposed to barricade themselves inside the dugout. It was a hole that had been dug in the ground and logs had been laid over the top. The dirt from the hole had been dumped on the top and packed. It had a stairway that descended to the entrance. It was not much defense against a determined dragon but it was fire proof and the best that they had.
The dragons were nearly upon them when the last villager rushed through the door. Encer slammed it shut behind the man and slid the beam into place. Now he waited and pondered his hubris. He had thought that he understood the dragons enough that he would be safe on their doorstep. Now several hungry dragons circled overhead and the lives of all the people that had trusted him were in danger. Flint flashed and a torch flickered to life. Everyone huddled in terrified silence awaiting the inevitable scratching sound from the ceiling. This was expected to be followed by the sound of wood crunching under stark talons. A hole would appear and… Encer shook his head in an attempt to stop the terrifying scenario from playing out in his head.
When the dreaded sound never came Encer began to gain a little courage. It was entirely possible that the creatures were simply waiting outside for the tender morsels to come out. It was also possibl
e that the dragons were only curious and had flown away after the first cursory glance. Several young men offered to come with him as he slid the beam off the door. A couple were armed with farm implements but most had nothing like the sword that hung at Encer’s side.
The door released an ear splitting, or so everyone thought, squeal as it slowly opened. Encer stood ready to throw his weight against it should an angry dragon head appear outside. When nothing happened he cautiously stuck his head outside and looked around. The view afforded by the stairwell wasn’t enough to convince Encer of the safety of the village. Only by climbing the stairs and peeking out the top could that be ascertained.
Encer took the dangerous assignment and waved the man back inside. The stairway seemed to stretch on endlessly as he crawled up. The widening piece of sky didn’t give any indications of the dragons and no sound reached his ears. Finally reaching the top Encer looked first one way then back the other way. Nothing threatening met his eyes. The hard packed ground was bare as far as he could see. Accept for a large pile of skins that Encer assumed had been dropped by a villager. He was about to begin scouting out the village for hidden dragons when he heard a child cry out.
Encer assumed that the child had been forgotten in the mad rush to the dugout. He was mildly surprised that he hadn’t been accosted by frantic parents long before this point. With sword drawn and at the ready he advanced towards the cry. He stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the top of the stairs. A set of large dragon prints surrounded the pile of skins. Nestled in the middle of the pile was an infant softly cooing and waving its hands in the air. Encer was overcoming his astonishment when a woman pushed past him.
Mytera was a widow having just lost her husband in infant child to accident and illness. “You fool! What if there was still a dragon up here?”