Dragonblood (6 page)

He hoped that appearance did not count for much, as he would be gritty and sweaty, with a few tears in his clothes for good measure. He heaved a sigh and pushed himself to his feet. Grasping at a small crevice, he pulled himself upward. The sun would be setting soon. For a moment panic almost overtook him. He calmed himself with the knowledge that his part would be late in the ceremony. He had time. Patience would win the race.

He’d not looked back down since starting his ascent. Now and then the itchy feeling between his shoulder blades would distract him, but he refused to look down. This was no time to give in to vertigo. As he neared the crest finger holds and foot holds became scarce. He spied a slight outcropping about a foot above his outstretched hand. Bending his knees, he jumped – and missed his target! He felt himself falling, sliding down the cliff face. Desperately he sought something to grab onto. He latched onto a scraggly vine-like weed, barely pushing through a crack in the rock. He hung there, bloody and near exhaustion. To make matters worse, the sun was beginning to set, and his Bondmate’s complete attention was on what the young dragon was doing. The ceremony had begun!

* * *

He’d eaten well, and after the bath he’d returned to his cave to wait for the beginning of the ceremony. His scales fairly glowed. All, it seemed, was going well. Even Smort had not shown his muzzle all day. Cloudia had been dispatched to meet Tallon on the east summit. That would be the way he’d be climbing. She would let him know when Tallon had arrived, and she would escort him to the ceremony so there’d be no mishap.

It seemed he’d only closed his eyes when he felt the summons. Leaving his cave, he saw that, sure enough, the sun was beginning to set. Scores of dragons ringed the mountaintop. A low, deep hum vibrated fro the throats of all those dragons. He could feel it in his bones. The ground shook with the sound. At a gesture from the
senior
elder, the humming ceased completely. The sudden silence was deafening.

“Who comes before us on this, his naming day?” All the elders spoke as one.

The young dragon stepped forward. “I am the son of Fracco, son of Mothag, son of Groth...,” and he continued to name his father’s ancestors for fifteen generations. Then, he did the same for his mother. “I am the son of Blessa, daughter of Bresca, daughter of Lempis...”

An elder spoke, “It is well you have come before us this day. You will leave behind the days of childhood and take on the mantle of an adult.”

“Tell us what deeds, what actions deem you worthy of a name, youngling.” demanded another elder.

The young dragon launched into the traditional litany, listing his studies, his physical prowess, his mental disciplines,
etc.
The elders nodded at the appropriate times, and seemed almost bored with the ceremony. They’d done this countless times. Then, suddenly, their attention was snapped to sharp focus on the young candidate.

“While flying home one night, I was wounded by a human archer. I admit it was my fault for flying too low. However, I have learned a great lesson from the incident, and perhaps gained more than I could have ever imagined.”

Confused murmurs arose from the surrounding dragons. The elders looked at one another in near panic. They of course knew of the wounding, but they had not expected the candidate to mention such a faux pas.

It took some time to regain order among the throng. The young dragon took that time to scan the crowd for sign of Cloudia and Tallon. Suddenly, Cloudia shouldered her way through the crowd. She was alone! Slowly, she shook her head.
The Creator must be laughing,
the young nameless one thought.

Nothing for it but to forge ahead. The young dragon took a deep breath and spoke into the uneasy silence. His wounds had bled. A human had somehow ingested his blood. A nameless one had bonded a human. His Bondmate was even now on his way to complete the blood rite. He –

Roars of horror sounded from scores of dragons. The elders had lost complete control of the ceremony. Panic reigned. Fracco and Blessa stood apart from the crowd, heads down. Only Cloudia looked at him with any sign of support.

It appeared all was lost. It
was
a bold plan. Only adults were allowed to bond, and even that had not been done for ages. Perhaps they’d only exile him. He’d miss his parents. He could not ask Cloudia to give up her position and follow him into exile.

“SILENCE!!”
The elders ordered, and twelve massive tails thumped the ground hard enough to bounce boulders. Gradually the area grew quiet. They were about to pass judgment.

* * *

Tallon clung to the weed with failing strength. Each time he’d tried to pull himself upward, the small plant would loosen a little. Its roots were not deep, and his weight was too much for it without support for his feet. So close, so bloody close, only to fail. His hand was starting to cramp, and it suddenly seemed such an easy thing to just let go and end the pain of failure.

Just as he was about to let go, he felt a sudden support under his feet.
What?
He thought, and looked down. There, pushing up against his feet was Plug. The hidden eyes now made sense. Plug! One of Cimian’s gang.

“Plug, what are you doing here?” Tallon gasped.

“I told you I owed you. Never mind that now, Tallon. I’ll push and you pull up!”

Plug heaved and Tallon pulled. It worked! Tallon’s battered fingers found a hold and as he pulled himself up onto a narrow shelf the weed broke free. Tallon looked down at Plug, who smiled up at him.

“Gimme your hand, Plug. You’ve come this far. And, uh, thanks.”

“I said I owed ya. What’re you doin’ up here, anyway?” Plug said.

“Come on. You’ll see. Just stay quiet from here on out. And stay low once we reach the top. Come on, now.”

The two boys helped each other climb the rest of the way to the top. They lay there for a moment, catching their breaths. Tallon looked around, expecting to see Cloudia. He’d never met her, but his Bondmate had described her – beautiful, he’d said, as if Tallon could tell what beautiful meant to a dragon – and said she’d be there to meet him and escort him in.

Tallon felt through the bond and received only a sense of anxiety. There was a loud commotion to the west, so he followed the sound. Plug followed at a cautious distance.

“Wait Tallon! What’s going on?” Plug whispered.

“Dragons, Plug. Lot’s of ‘em. You gotta keep quiet now. Be just as quiet as you were following me!” Tallon smiled grimly.

As Tallon turned, both boys heard the roar: “SILENCE!!” And the ground shook like an earthquake.

* * *

The elders looked around at the scores of dragons surrounding the mountaintop. Once they were sure order had been restored, the eldest spoke.

He eyed the young dragon and shook his head in disbelief. “Surely one would not make up such a story to enhance one’s naming day. What you claim has been lost for ages. Humans are not to be trusted in any case.” After a pause, he added, “You may now recant your claim if you so desire.”

The young dragon sighed. “Honored Elder, I fear I cannot –” He stopped as a small figure ran into the circle. TALLON! His Bondmate was filthy, his clothes torn and stained with sweat and blood. He was, in a word – beautiful!

“KILL IT!” A dragon growled.

“He is MY Bondmate,” the young dragon hissed, “and therefore sacrosanct.”

No one else spoke.

Tallon moved to stand near the center of the circle. He bowed formally to the elders. In shock, they all watched as Tallon began the Ritual of the Blood Bond.

From a closed stance, Tallon leaped into the air, feet and hands a blur until he landed gracefully and began a series of lesser leaps and kicks. As he moved he began to recite. In the Old Earth tongue he almost sang: “I am Tallon, son of Cruss and of Maryll. I petition for the bonding. I have tasted draconic blood. Do I not move as a dragon? My heart beats, my blood boils. I am Tallon, Bondmate to the dragon standing before you today. I challenge any to deny the bond!” And then he... roared! He reared back his head and let loose a roar to make any dragon envious. Then, near exhaustion, he bowed again and stood beside his friend.

In spite of themselves the dragons were impressed. The elders spoke quietly amongst themselves, glancing from time to time at the two in the center of the circle. A low murmur began again from the circle.

Plug watched with eyes almost coming out of their sockets. He’d found a hiding place amidst a group of rocks. Cloudia could barely contain herself. She wanted to cheer! It might actually work! She had been sure Snooter’s naming day would be glorious.

And then Smort made himself known.

“Phaw!” He spat, “Do you honestly consider this hatchling worthy of a name? After what he’s done? What he has confessed to!” He strutted challengingly toward the elders. “Surely you cannot –”

“It is not for YOU, Smort, to tell Elders what they can or cannot do!”

Again, the elders spoke as one: “Fate, it seems, has made a choice. We do not believe in “accidents” in the way of the world. But the world turns, and change is part of the turning. The human – Tallon? – has proved himself worthy. Look at him. The climb to reach us surely nearly killed him. Yet he performed with honor and courage.”

All the elders turned to face the young dragon. “Take flight young one, and return to us and adult.”

Tallon ducked and covered his face as dust and gravel swirled from the force of the dragon’s takeoff. Now it depended on his Bondmate. How high one flew helped determine worthiness. His friend flew with frenzy. He had much to prove. Soon, he was just a speck in the sky, and then lost all together.
“He tries to reach the stars,”
Cloudia sent to Tallon. He could feel her pride matching his own.

“NO!” Smort bellowed, and launched himself into the darkening sky.

Now there was chaos among the dragons. Smort had done the unthinkable! No one interfered with a naming day flight! Tallon felt himself being crunched as dragons moved in, looking up to catch a glimpse of what would happen. Even the elders seemed unwilling to try to restore order. They too, were looking up with worried faces.

Tallon eased his way to the outer edge of the closing circle and tried to reach his friend’s mind.

“Tallon, we have done it, my friend! Feel this! Is it not wonderful?”

“Beware! Smort comes for you!”

“Ha! Dragons do not such things, Tallon. You jest!”

“Look back! Defend yourself!”

“I cannot believe such a thing, even from – ummph!”

The young one’s thought broke off as Smort crashed into him, wrapping legs, tail, and wings around him. With wings entangled they both plummeted toward the Earth.

“You will not have a name! With my death I will deny you a name!!” Smort growled in his ear.

Dragon’s style of fighting includes biting and raking with the rear legs. The claws on both forelegs and hind legs are strong, but the forelegs are used mainly for holding, while raking with the rear leg’s claws. In this case, the rear legs were tangled together, along with the wings and tails. Smort planned only to hang on and kill them both. It is difficult to defeat an opponent who is willing to die in order to beat you. The young dragon knew this, and began to accept that death was near.

Then, for a wonder, his Bondmate began sending him instructions! He did not understand them, but one must trust one’s Bondmate. With the wind howling and the ground rushing up to meet them, the young dragon closed his fore claws together until they began to hurt his paw. Then he drew his paw back and thrust it forward with all his might, into the snout of Smort. A...PUNCH! The reaction was quite satisfying. Smort began to flail about, his grip loosening. The young one –
threw?
– another punch and Smort fell back, freeing his legs, and more importantly, his wings.

On the ground Tallon roared his approval. He could not understand at first, why the dragons still seemed so concerned. The problem was, Smort was unconscious. He would crash into the ground with killing force. Suddenly, Tallon did not feel so cheerful.

Fortunately, the young one had flown incredibly high. He recovered nicely and latched on to Smort’s legs, fore and hind, and began to trying to break their fall. Smort’s weight was still causing them to descend too fast. He heard Tallon’s anxious howl. His Bondmate was trying to send
him
waves of strength. They were slowing, but not enough. When they were within a dragon’s length from the ground, the young one back winged for all he was worth and released Smort.

The unfortunate Smort woke up just as he hit the ground, knocking him out again. Then the young dragon plowed into him, making sure he was out for awhile! The cushion of Smort saved the young one from any serious injury. Smort suffered bruised neck and back ridges, and worst of all, a broken wing. But he would survive.

As a Healer tended to Smort (along with an elder who would decide his punishment) the elders restored order and continued the naming day ceremony/blood bond rite.

“Come forward young adult,” the elders chorused. “And bring your Bondmate, for he is surely worthy.”

With Cloudia and his parents in attendance, his Bondmate by his side, the nameless one was about to receive his name!

“This day you have shown your courage, your honor, your loyalty. Son of Fracco and Blessa, from this day forward you shall be known as... BLASCO.”

The mountain echoed with the name. Scores of dragons chanted it... Blasco, Blasco, Blasco...

* * *

Afterwards there was feasting and merriment, as happens on such occasions. Tallon was introduced to his Bondmate’s parents and to Cloudia. He tried to find Plug, but he had sneaked away during the excitement. Eventually Plug returned to town to tell the tale, though few believed him.

Tallon and Blasco had many fine adventures, and no doubt many songs are still sung about them. But these are tales for another time.