Dragonblood (2 page)

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Authors: Anthony D. Franklin

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BOOK: Dragonblood
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Maryll, usually so strong, burst into tears. “My son, my son.” She whimpered.

“Maybe we should see the old woman. They say she’s got powers. Ya know,
powers.
” Cruss suggested.

“Never!!” Maryll averred, apparently regaining her strength and poise. “Never will I go to that abomination! You don’t go to evil to fight evil.”

“I was just...” Cruss mumbled.

“I know what you was just!” Maryll spat. “What say you, Arrek?”

“As I said, I ain’t much fer that sort of fare. Just keep the lad t’ home and I’ll check on this muck on his clothes. And keep him calm. His eyes lit up orange-like when he got riled, ya notice. Just keep him happy and calm like a baby is what I say. I’ll get back to ya soon’s I can.”

Cruss and Maryll bid the doctor farewell and reentered their cottage. “Tallon?” His mother called. No answer. “TALLON!” Cruss barked. Still no answer.

Tallon, their normally obedient son, was gone.

The old healer had no ready answer for the young dragon. What to do indeed. Not in all of Draconic history had a human ingested the blood of one of their kind by accident. Always, there was the rite, the slow education which humans seemed barely able to comprehend.

“Maybe we should find it and kill it.” Suggested Fracco.

“No!” Blessa cried. “Remember the oath. We’ll not be the ones to breach the peace.”

“Our son has been wounded by one of
them
!” Fracco flared. “It would not be us as peace breakers.”

“I doubt that the one bonded is the one which shot arrows into our child.” Blessa reasoned.

“Still, it is a human. Few can be considered worthy of such an association. Besides, our young one is not old enough to be expected to understand the complications of such a relationship. It is too much. Kill the human, I say.”

“Fracco,” the healer interrupted, “I understand your concern, but we are above killing such petty human animals. Perhaps we shall find a way to solve this. I suggest we meditate on this for a few days. Haste is the father of error.”

“You are correct, of course.” Blessa agreed.

Her mate nodded and grunted a half-hearted agreement.

“I will return in a few days, then. Until then, be well my friends.” The old healer heaved himself into the air and soon vanished over the cliff side.

“Will this delay our son’s naming day, do you think?” Blessa asked her mate.

“Delay? I don’t know. But it will have bearing on his name, I’m afraid. In recent times the blood rite has been outlawed altogether.” Fracco shook his massive head.

“Little one?” Blessa called to her son as she entered the large cave.

No answer.

“SON!” Fracco’s bellow was fearsome.

No answer.

Together Fracco and Blessa reached for their hatchling with their powerful minds. Telepathically they touched him, but he would not respond. Shaking their heads over the impetuousness of youth they returned to their living chambers to meditate on the situation.

Tallon raced through the fields of grain behind his home. On he ran, into the woods bordering the family property. He felt more alive than ever before. He felt as if he were running toward something, though he knew not what. Joy pumped through his veins, feeding his muscles and fueling his desire to exert himself.
If only I could fly,
he thought,
I would fly like a... like a...

“Hey, Tallon!”

He was brought out of his daydream by a familiar voice.

“Hello Cimian.” He panted, having come to a sudden stop.

“Don’t hello, Cimian me, Tallon boy.” The bully sneered. “Don’t you know these are my woods?”

As usual, Cimian was not alone. Four of his roughnecks were fanning out around Tallon as he spoke.

“I don’t want trouble.” Tallon pleaded.

“You don’t hafta want it, Tally boy.” And Cimian signaled his gang to close in.

* * *

Tallon stood surrounded by Cimian and his gang of ruffians. The gang leader smiled as his boys moved in closer to attack their frequent victim. None of them had noticed the changes in Tallon. His loose fitting shirt hid corded muscles and his breeches concealed strong legs. As the first attacker reached Tallon he hesitated, perhaps sensing something.

Tallon turned to face the one nearest him and shouted, “NO!”

The boy paled as he saw orange fire in Tallon’s eyes. He didn’t hear Cimian’s shouted command to “GET HIM!”

The others, not seeing Tallon’s face, rushed to the attack.

They never knew what hit them.

Tallon crouched suddenly, and then sprang skyward, kicking out with both legs, one forward and one back. Two would be attackers were sent flying in opposite directions. As he landed Tallon struck a hammer blow to the head of the boy whose face had paled from seeing his eyes. The kid sank liquidly to the ground. As Cimian stood staring in disbelief, his fourth roughneck ran for safety.

Slowly, Tallon turned to face Cimian. The bully’s jaw dropped. There stood the former easy prey, staring at him with eyes of flame. Suddenly, Cimian could not move. He desperately wanted to turn and run, but his feet seemed rooted to the spot. He watched helplessly as Tallon approached. Fear as he had never known enveloped Cimian. He saw Tallon’s scowling face coming closer. He watched as Tallon opened his mouth and emitted a wordless, inhuman roar. Wetness appeared on the front of Cimian’s breeches and then he fainted dead away.

Flying was always good. While in the air, almost any problem could be forgotten. The young dragon needed to clear his mind. Flying would help, he reckoned. Flying was always good.

He had to fly at a high altitude during the light of day, so no prying eyes would spy the supposedly mythical creature in flight. He felt a twinge of guilt for not answering his parents’ calls. They would worry a bit. However, he was near to his naming day. Nearly an adult. His parents would understand. He had to think out this problem in his own way. Dragon fashion.

Flying above the clouds, the dragon was finally beginning to relax when he felt a sudden surge of adrenalin. Fear and anger mixed together in a heated rush. Opening his mind, he felt the bond gaining strength. Both repulsed and curious, the great beast melded with the human mind in order to “see” through the human animal’s eyes.

The human was under attack! Five assailants surrounded it. He could sense the coppery taste of fear in his mouth. The blood bond, though accidental, demanded action. Even as he flew toward his bond mate, he sent draconic strength out in waves to the frightened human. The reaction was immediate and powerful. The human leapt and fought with serpentine agility. The battle was surprisingly short. Two attackers fell quickly, then a third. One ran away. The fifth stood its ground, but looked afraid.

The dragon, sensing his rescue effort was no longer needed, veered away and flew back toward his cave, releasing his hold on the human’s mind.
Perhaps,
he thought.
Perhaps I shall enjoy this bond.

When Tallon came to his senses, Cimian was out cold on the ground with soiled pants and no gang. He quickly surveyed the area and saw three of Cimian’s henchmen staggering away down a path toward town. Two of them were trying to carry the third, and they all looked in danger of falling down. Tallon checked to see that Cimian was in fact, alive. Once satisfied that he was still breathing, Tallon made his way back to the safety of his parents and home.

When he arrived at his parents’ cottage there was a great commotion in progress. Tallon stayed hidden behind the house and listened in. His parents were arguing with the constable and one member of Cimian’s gang was gesturing wildly.

The constable said, “The boy here says your son kilt this Cimian boy.”

“Our son wouldn’t hurt anyone, Cleve!” Maryll defended her son.

“I know, Maryll”, Cleve, the constable said. “But you wouldn’t mind if we just checked out the woods behind your field, would ya?”

Cruss grunted. “Yer gonna do what yer gonna do, no matter what we says, right?”

“Well Cruss, I gotta do my job, you understand.”

Cruss spat, “Let’s do ‘er then. I’m comin’ with ya though. My son and my property!”

So they set out. Cruss, Maryll, the constable, and the cringing boy. A few townsfolk went with them, just to see what all the fuss was about. Tallon, having ducked out of sight while they passed, followed at a safe distance.

* * *

“Careful of my dang crops, ya nosy buncha do-nuthins!” Cruss grumbled as the group tramped through his grain fields.

“Hush, darlin’”, Maryll cautioned her husband, “They’s just curious is all.”

The constable was just ahead of Cruss and Maryll, trying to make sense of the choked directions given by the babbling boy. A group of townspeople followed, anxious to see if something exciting had finally happened in their village.

Further back, Tallon stealthily followed the strange procession. He too was curious. Curious as to how he had defeated his attackers after years of accepting getting beaten as a matter of course. He did not even remember hitting anyone.
Maybe,
he thought,
these new muscles really can do something!

From up ahead Tallon heard a shout, and then a chorus of loud exclamations. They’d found Cimian.

Flying had once again proven to conquer confusion and spiraling emotions. Of course, the pleasure of battle hadn’t hurt either. Even battle vicariously fought was quite fun. Dragons loved competition, and mock battles were often a source of great pleasure for the giant beasts.

The young dragon had come to a decision. His blood had been ingested by a human. He would accept the consequences. The hard part, as he saw it, would be convincing the human to accept them also. It could be a very rewarding experience for both, if the human could be made to understand the sanctity of the blood bond. If only human brains weren’t so puny!

The other problem, only slightly less hard, would be to convince his parents he knew what he was doing. Youth had inherent difficulties. No adult thought you could think, fly, or eat correctly without their input! Oh, the naming day could not come soon enough! For all the respect he had for Fracco and Blessa, he could hardly wait to be on his own. An adult with all the privileges the status implies.

Until that time however, he still lived under his parents’ rule. This incident, though not of his making, could embarrass them and hurt his chances for a proper name. Draconic logic was formidable, and he would have to make an impressive argument to keep this bond. Somehow he’d have to save face for his parents and display his worthiness as a dragon of full stature.

Cimian was just coming to when he heard a shout followed by many voices together. As he staggered to his feet he found himself confronted by the town constable and a group of townies, including his gang boy, Plug. Plug spoke first.

“Yer alive! I was sure he’d kilt ya, Cim.”

“I told ya my boy ain’t killed nobody.” Cruss said.

“What’s that on yer breeches, boy?” the constable asked.

Cimian looked down and saw the stain on the front of his pants. His face turned beet red, and he spun and raced away. As he ran, falling, getting up and running again, he heard loud laughter following him.

“Now Plug, maybe you best tell us what really happened out here.” The constable had turned to face the boy.

While Plug tried to stammer a credible lie, Tallon stepped forward into the clearing.

“Son!” Cruss yelled, as Maryll hurried to her boy.

“I’m fine, Pa, Ma.” Tallon said. “I can tell you Cimian and a few of his gang tried to jump me.”

“Nah, that ain’t so!” cried Plug. “We was just walkin’ along and Tallon here came at us... with a big club! Yeah, a club!”

“You didn’t mention a club before, Plug.”

“I just thought of it! I mean, I just remembered it.”

“Cleve,” Cruss said, “I think it’s clear these boys tried to jump my boy. They been doin’ it fer long as I can remember. Looks like this time they got theirs, that’s all.”

Cleve took in Tallon’s change in demeanor and the strange way he carried himself now. More confident, he seemed. Heck, he even looked bigger and stronger. “I s’pose you’re right, Cruss.” He said. “Everybody go on home now. It’s all over. Nobody dead and nobody really hurt. ‘Cept Cimian’s pride, maybe.”

The group broke up and headed for their homes, leaving Cleve, Plug, and Tallon and his parents in the clearing. Plug looked nervous, and rightfully so. The constable asked Tallon if he wanted to make any complaint against Plug or Cimian.

“No, sir,” he replied, “I reckon we can settle this on our own.”

“Alright, then,” Cleve said, “Plug, you git on home, now. Try and stay outta trouble for a few days, hear?”

“Yessir!” Plug exclaimed. “Thanks Tallon, I’ll remember this. I owe you one.” And Plug scurried for home.

Later, when they were back home and eating lunch, Tallon asked his father, “Pa, how long you known Cimian was pickin’ on me?”

With a sidelong look at his son, Cruss replied, “A while boy. But I know’d I can’t fight yer battles fer ya. Knew you’d stand up to ‘em one day. Proud of ya, I am.”

“Thanks, Pa.”
But how did I do it?
Tallon wondered.

After days of meditation, Fracco and Blessa met with the Healer to discuss the predicament presented by the incidental bond. They thought to present the problem to the council, but the young one begged them not to. Too many opinions would only muddy the waters. Clear thinking is what was needed.

Fracco still leaned toward eliminating the human. Blessa and the Healer disagreed. In the end, the young one made the best argument. Both parents were proud of the hatchling’s flawless logic as he convinced them to allow him to court the human, nurture the bond, and so learn more of humans as part of his list of accomplishments to be counted on his naming day. They could turn an accident into an asset. He could do what no other dragon his age had ever done before. And so it was decided.

The young dragon reached out to the human with his mind, trying to connect, to strengthen the bond. He could feel the human. Contact. It has a name. Tallon.
Good name,
he thought.

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