The Last Dragon: Book One

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

None us got much sleep—except for Tater. Springer circled the campsite several times as if he was uneasy, but each time he returned without barking to sleep beside Tater. Three blankets wrapped around me, like swaddling to keep the damp chill away. However, the chill didn’t all come from the night air. No campfire would warm me. If fear of the future causes a man to feel cold and alone, I was terrified.

My ears heard Tater’s heavy snores and should have picked out the breathing of Elizabeth and Kendra but did not. They were also awake and probably feeling much the same as me. None of us attempted to talk. The owls hooted, the river whispered, and insects buzzed. My ears searched for the flap of leathery wings carrying a dragon to us.

Near dawn, Springer stood suddenly and growled a warning. As usual, the diminutive dog was ready to fight. My bow was at hand, as was my sword, but nothing approached. As Springer calmed, we mutually decided a stray traveler must have used the stone bridge. Still, the warning built our confidence in the watchdog.

We drifted back to sleep, or two of us did because Kendra decided to throw rocks at my head. Not large one, but pea-sized. She wanted me to remain awake, and the others asleep. The pebbles striking my head kept me that way.

Tater snored, and soon Elizabeth was sleeping, too. I eased to my feet while wrapping my blankets around me for warmth. If one of them woke, I’d explain it was just a pee break. Down beside the edge of the river, the rushing of water would cover any conversation. A boulder just the right height sat on the bank as if inviting me.

A few minutes later, Kendra joined me, sitting beside and whispering. “Something’s happening.”

If it was immediate, she would have her weapons ready to fight with her. “Tell me.”

“The wyverns swarmed a while ago. They don’t usually fly at night because their eyes are not built for the dark. Something upset them so much they all took flight.”

“How can you know all that?”

“The wyverns are like hundreds of bees buzzing in my head, as a steady sound made up of all the smaller ones. At dark each day, the sounds dip and fade. They don’t stop, but it grows less, it becomes softer. They are sleeping. When Springer barked and woke me, the buzzing was back at the daytime level.”

“Meaning?”

“I think whatever spooked Springer, did the same thing to them.”

We sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the river. I heard a fish splash, but it may have been a bullfrog or something else. My imagination saw a beautiful rainbow trout as long as my forearm leaping momentarily free of the water. Like that vision, Kendra might be assigning her mental buzzing to wyverns when she heard the sounds of a honey-tree.

No, even my wild imagination couldn’t believe she would be that wrong. But, she suddenly seemed to be fascinated with dragons of any sort, and she was willing to blame a lone traveler on the bridge as the result of dragons. The problem was, my sister was not one to panic or exaggerate. She was the calm one, the sibling who sat back and waited for things to work out before making a judgment.

I said, “When you talk about being spooked, my mind translates that to a covey of quail taking flight when a dog takes a run at them.”

She didn’t answer right away. When she did, her voice was softer but more intense. “Listen, your example isn’t far off. What is in my mind are bare peaks of mountains with nests built on the cliff faces where small animals can’t get to them and steal the eggs. Wyverns breed and sit on their eggs for months. Males hunt for food and return it to the females. It takes two to feed the chicks. Then, for some reason, they all flew away from their nests at the same time. They were scared.”

“You got all that from buzzing in your head?”

“I’m putting into words my feelings, impressions, and who knows what else. It is not information that is fact, but that is inferred like it has been there all the time, but I didn’t know it.”

“Now you’re really scaring me if you keep this up.” My statement was not an idle thought.

“Not my intent. But it scares me too. Each word I speak is making me think deeper into the subject, and there are things emerging that were unknown, even to me.”

“And now you believe there is truly a dragon in Mercia?”

“Not in it, but near. That is one thing the Blue Woman spoke about that is true. I can sense it, like the beat of a drum, while wyverns are bees buzzing.”

“You sense it? You believe it is really there? A damn dragon?”

Even in the starlight, the flood of tears streaked down her cheeks. She didn’t sob, nor did she cover her face with her hands. Instead, she leaned closer and placed a palm on my cheek. She said in the softest voice imaginable. “Yes, it is there. And it is sad and calling to me.”

“Why?”

“It is angry and being held a prisoner. No, that isn’t quite right. It is angry at being restrained. Its feelings are in a rage.”

“I think it has a right to be, if there are forces that are holding it, or it is penned up. How long has it been there?”

“Four hundred years, more or less.” Her head tilted at an odd angle, and more tears flowed. “How could I possibly know that? I am going insane.”

“How could someone do that to an animal? Even to a dragon. Four hundred years?”

“Damon, you always were understanding. If you could feel what I do, you’d know how important that is right now.”

“You’re scared.”

“Wouldn’t you be? Spirits appear and call me a Dragon Queen and order me to stay away, but other entities we’ve never seen pull me to Mercia. Then there is the dragon, a creature we didn’t even believe in a few days ago, that has been locked up for so long I can’t imagine it. And to make all that worse, how do we choose sides? Because there are definitely sides to this—this conflict.”

“We’ve already made our choice, or it has been made for us. If we continue into Mercia, we are not on the side of the Blue Woman. We’ll also watch for anybody from Kondor, although my suspicions are that they were all being controlled by a mage and not at fault.”

“Why do you think that?”

The sound of the rippling water soothed me as I gathered my thoughts. “There were four of us, tired and weary. Twelve of them, and they had surprise on their side. We found a few bows, but they didn’t use them in the attack, and I thought that was because they wanted us alive.”

“And now?”

“My belief is they were being manipulated by a mage, or more than one. Twelve should have been easily able to overrun four civilians with their swords and clubs. But think of the coordination and skill required to shoot a bow. When they attacked, they looked sluggish, which I decided later was due to starvation. What if it was because they were being controlled?”

Kendra whirled on me. “That would explain the lack of rings, money, personal items, and even food. They were captives, like the dragon.”

That hadn’t occurred to me. But she was right. They were in a situation worse than slaves, and guilt overcame me. We’d killed innocent puppets if our deductions were right. We sat in stone cold silence beside the river. I didn’t bother wiping away the tears because more followed.

Kendra sniffled, too. She didn’t have to discuss it more because she believed the same as me. Then she stood. “I’m going to Mercia.”

“Even with a dragon and its captor or captors waiting for you?”

“Yes.”

“You may die there.”

“I may die at home in my bed. Don’t try to persuade me to leave this alone. It’s something I must do. You and the others can return home if you wish, and I’ll understand.”

“You will not.”

“If you say so. Go back to bed. I have some more thinking to do. Alone.”

“Mercia is almost in sight. We’ll be there by mid-day at the latest.”

She paced in circles and finally said in the fiercest tone she’d ever used, “Let’s go stir the pot, Damon.”