Dragons of Summer Tide (The Dragons of Hwandor) (2 page)

“Boy
– boy,” called a weak voice followed by a cough. Veer turned and saw a man on the ground leaning against the stones of the well and a horse standing near him. Veer realized that he was still holding his bow and he nocked an arrow and drew the bow sighting the chest of the man. “Don’t release boy, don’t release.” The man followed his words with a fit of coughing. Veer could see that the man had already been feathered with a small arrow. He had seen a small arrow somewhere before. The foreigners, they had carried short curvy bows and short arrows hanging from their saddles.

“Who are you?”
Veer demanded of the man keeping his arrow sighted on the struggling chest of the stranger. Veer noticed that the man was not young and was, in fact, old enough to be his grandfather.

“Talenger, I’m a ranger, a retired royal ranger.” A fit of coughing overcame the man and his whole body seemed to struggle for air. “I was too late to warn old Garist.” The face of the man showed his pain and struggle for air.
Veer moved a little closer to hear what the man had to say. “There are some men who look like bandits but they are really soldiers from far away, one of their bands did this.”

Veer
started to speak. “Where are...”

“Stop!” The old man said raising his hand. “No time. I guess you’ll have to do. Take my sword on the ground there and that horse, his name is Calt. In the saddle bags there is a pouch and you have to take it to the Ranger headquarters in Verat City
- it has to get to the king. There is gold in the bags to use to pay for food and lodgings so you will be able to travel fast.” His eyes starting to close the man took a long rattling breath.

“Where is my family?”
Veer shouted.

“I’m sorry boy
,” the man whispered as he opened his eyes and struggled to speak. “Too late. They killed ‘em all and piled them in the houses and burned ‘em. Left me for dead inside one too, but I crawled out here. What’s your name boy?”

“
Veerdrayer Amicious,” Veer responded. “My family is not dead; they would have hidden in the woods.”

“Not enough time to hide.” The old man whispered. “Amicious? Then you would be from old Captain Garist. Good. Take the piece hanging around my neck and keep it with you.” Then the old man closed his eyes as he whispered. “You’ll do.”  The old ranger gave one last shudder and slowly the tension in his limbs faded.

“Wait! Tell me where my family is,” Veer yelled at the dead man. “They have to be hiding. And Grand-da wasn’t any kind of captain he was a hunter.” Veer looked about him at the ashes and the ruins and began to shout towards the forest, “Come out! They are gone! It’s safe now! We have a lot of work to do!” Veer became more frantic as he yelled. He stood there staring at the forest a hundred yards away and waited for someone, something to come out and answer him. Any moment plump Mum would come walking out of the trees with Grand-da and Da limping behind and they would all set to the work of rebuilding with the other families. Veer stood and he watched and he waited.

He didn’t know how long he had been standing there watching, it could have been a few moments or a few hours. But his shadow had drifted quite a distance.
Veer could smell the burned wood and the smoke still rising from the ruins around him. He began to notice the smell and realized that in with the smell of ash were other smells like burned hair, wool and burned flesh. Veer knew what he was starting to smell - who he was starting to smell. Knees giving way, Veer fell to the ground and pitched forward onto his hands and started to retch. He had only eaten a handful of oats since the night before so there was nothing to bring up except his own bile. But still his body tried and tried until he collapsed and lay there shaking from exhaustion.

Veer
knew in his soul that what the old dying ranger had said was true - they were dead - they were all dead. He was alone, with nobody and with nothing. Spent from his run and his retching Veer just lay there on the ground in misery with the afternoon summer sun beating down on him. Then a shadow fell over his face and he noticed that he could hear breathing above him and as he opened his eyes he saw a chestnut coloured horse standing over him blocking the sunlight.  He wondered where a horse had come from. There were no horses in the village, there were just a couple of the tough little ponies that the hill people ride, those and a donkey which pulled the common plough that the families shared.  Veer suddenly remembered that there had been a horse standing near the ranger. A chestnut horse which the ranger had given to him before the man had died. Then Veer remembered the sword. With a good sword, a horse and his bow Veer could follow the strangers - find them - destroy them.

Veer
slowly pushed himself to his feet, and though his body felt weak from lack of food and water his new resolve gave him strength to push on. He went to where the sword lay on the ground; where the ranger must have dropped it when he was hit by the arrow. As he picked up the weapon it felt strange to him but Veer promised himself that he would learn to use the blade, and use it well.  Veer walked over to the side of the horse and started to try and climb up into the saddle.

“I can’t get on a horse and ride around with a sword in my hand
,” Veer said out loud to himself. “I need a scabbard.” Veer thought about the old ranger leaning against the well stones. “He gave me the sword so he had to have wanted me to take the scabbard too. That isn’t stealing from the dead, really, since it is what he wanted.” Veer walked to the well and knelt by the body of the old ranger and slowly unfastened the belt that was around the waist of the man and pulled it off of the body. He felt his gorge once again rising into his throat but this time he was able to hold it back and continue the task at hand. As the belt slid from around the old man the things attached to it began to fall onto the ground around the lifeless body.  A worn but good scabbard lay there on the ground along side of the body and with the scabbard lay a fighting knife in a sheath and a small leather pouch which had rattled with the sound of coins when it had fallen to the ground.

Veer
picked up the knife and pulled it from the sheath to look at it. The knife was about a foot long with a hilt to keep the hand from sliding forward onto the blade in a thrust. The blade was large and thick with a single sharp edge and a false edge on the back of the first three inches of the point. The ridge of the back of the rest of the blade was covered in a layer of brass, the softer metal helped keep other knives from slipping off and cutting the hand when blocking. Veer knew how to use this blade well enough since it was the regular fighting knife favoured by the local Hillfolk. Veer had helped his father make many of these knives in the smithy. Returning the knife to the hard leather sheath and laying it aside Veer grabbed the pouch of coins and the scabbard and stood. Veer remained there looking at the body of the old ranger as he took off his own old belt and replaced it with the stronger belt from the old man. As he put on the new belt he secured the scabbard, the pouch and his own hunting knife - that he always carried which his father had made for him - to his new belt. Veer bent and picked up the sword from where he had laid it on the ground beside the old man. Placing the sword point in the scabbard Veer slowly slid the blade home and looked down at the old man and said. “Thank you.” Then as an afterthought he bent and picked up the second fighting knife. Veer began to turn away and then remembered what the man had said about something around his neck. Veer once again bent over the man and pulled back the collar of his tunic and saw a leather thong. Gently, the boy removed the thong from the neck of the dead man and he found something that looked like a coin with a small hole hanging on the leather and he saw writing on the coin but it was in a language that he could not read. Veer placed the thing over his own neck and felt the cold coin slip into his own tunic and rest against his chest.

Veer
turned and walked over to the horse, slipped the fighting knife into the packs and climbed up clumsily and then looked over the ruins of his childhood home and the people he had known. He regretted that he couldn’t stay and bury the old ranger but Veer had things to do - people to kill - and the day was getting late and the sky was getting dark as clouds moved in for a late summer storm. So Veer turned his new horse back up the trail to follow the tracks to return to the last place Veer had seen his enemies. As the horse began to walk up the trail toward the hills the rain began to fall in big heavy drops as the sky seemed to join Veer in crying for his family.

Though the rain was falling steadily and washing the tracks from the ground
Veer knew these trails well and did not need tracks to return to the place where he had watched the strangers and dragon do battle. The young man felt like a stone in a mill - like he was just being turned by the force of the water flowing around him with little choice in the matter. Vacant and numb, he felt nothing as he hurried the horse up the trail through the rain. Knowing that this summer storm would soon grow heavy he needed to be back to the scene of the battle before night set in. He also knew that with the clouds growing heavier and the sun behind them nearing the horizon, night would not be long in coming.  The young man stopped only once - at the place on the trail where he had earlier dropped the deer - getting off of the horse long enough to pick up the animal and place it in front of his seat on the saddle.  In the back of his mind he knew that he would need food since he had no supplies.

The return to the small valley where the battle had
been fought between the dragon and the foreigners only took a little more than half an hour but already the stream was starting to grow and the steady rain was becoming a heavy rain and lighting was beginning to tear at the sky. Having grown up in this area, Veer remembered that there was a cave nearby where he and the horse could shelter from the weather until the storm passed and he could set off in the morning to hunt down his new enemies.

Five more minutes up the stream from the bodies of men and dragon and
Veer saw the opening to the shallow cave a little above him on the hillside high enough so that the stream could not flood it. Climbing down from the saddle Veer led the horse up the incline to the cave. At the mouth of the cave the horse planted his feet and refused to go in. Veer said to the horse. “Suit yourself then and stand out here in the rain.” A distant voice in the back of his mind told Veer that he should remove the saddle and packs from the horse and take them in the cave with him. Mechanically he unfastened the packs and tossed them into the cave then he took the deer and put her in the cave and then he untied the saddle and took the bridle off of the horse and carried these into the cave with him, leaving the horse outside in the rain.

Veer
tried to sit down but the sword got in his way so he removed the belt that held the sword and laid it along with fighting knife and the pouch down on the ground as he himself sat. Finally resting in the cave Veer felt a shiver as he realized that even though it was summer, the rain had chilled him. He also vaguely noticed a rumbling in his belly that reminded him that he had not eaten for a long time. He looked at the deer there across from him on the floor of the cave and realized that he had no fire with which to cook it and that any wood to be found would be far too wet to kindle. He moved across the small cave to where he had thrown the saddle and the packs and he unrolled the bed roll that had been on the horse behind the saddle and wrapped the thick wool blanket around himself.  Veer decided to open the saddle bags to see what the ranger had left in his packs and what supplies he would have to use on his mission of vengeance. In the packs he found a small cooking pot, coins, sewing things, leather strips, twine, a razor, tinder box and lots of the little items one would carry when travelling the hills. At the moment the most important thing that he found in the packs was some dried meat and oats. Though Veer didn’t feel like eating, his rumbling belly told him that he should have something. “I suppose that I’ll need my strength,” he said out loud to himself as be began to force himself to have some food.

Hearing a sound of movement off to his left
Veer saw a flicker of motion in the shadows there in the back of the shallow cave, only a dozen feet from where he sat. Something was in the cave with Veer and he wondered how he could have been so stupid as to forget to check the cave first. Reaching to his side and finding no knife Veer remembered that he had taken of the belt and weapons and left them on the other side of the cave. Veer attempted to leap toward his blades and his tired feet tangled in the blanket and he fell to find himself scrambling across the ground like an infant until he reached his knife and managed to turn around to face the back of the cave with his knife blade pointing out toward whatever was there in the darkness. While Veer had sat eating he had not noticed that it had become very dark, as night and the storm fell together over the world.  Veer could hear little noises of something moving around in the back of the cave. He wondered to himself if the sounds had been there all along and he had just not noticed. As he tried to peer through the gloom a stroke of lightning ripped the world apart outside and for a moment he could clearly see a mound of fur. Then after the flash he could see nothing as his eyes tried to readjust to the sudden return of darkness. Listening intently Veer could hear the sounds of small movements and he expected that any moment he would hear the growl of a wolf or of a hill lion. Veer sat pointing his knife before him listening intently but no growl came to him just small shuffling sounds which he could barely hear over his own pounding heart and the storm outside.

Another flash out in the storm let
Veer catch site of the creature again, and it had not moved any closer to him. Veer racked his thoughts to figure out what to do. He could slowly back out into the stormy night or he could lunge into the dark and hope that he killed whatever animal was at the back of the cave. Neither the thought of fighting an unknown animal in the dark nor that of going out exhausted and cold into a violent storm seemed very promising to him. As Veer sat and thought about what to do he realized that whatever was in the cave with him hadn’t attacked like a wolf or a lion would have done. Maybe it was something else, something not dangerous at all. Veer started to edge his way toward where the packs were left near the mouth of the cave. Careful to keep his knife pointed into the darkness toward the sounds, he felt his way among the items that he had earlier spilled out around he saddle bags. He found the tinder box with a flint and wad of wool which would catch a spark and flame up long enough to light twigs for a fire. If he only had some dry wood for a fire. Wait, he thought to himself as he began to feel around among the stuff from the packs and then his had felt a small candle. “I knew, I had seen this,” he said and was answered by the sound of something shifting in back of the cave. He tightened his grip on his knife and remembered Mum telling him that he shouldn’t talk to himself. A pang of loss came to him as he relived his entire day in a moment. Keeping his knife pointed to the back of the cave he tore off a small piece of wool and held the flint so that he could use the false edge of the knife to knock off sparks into the wool. After a few strikes the wool caught from a spark and he held the small flaming bundle to light the candle. As the candle caught fire the wind blowing in from outside made it flicker and Veer realized that his light would not last long. Veer quickly scanned the cave to see what animal he was sharing this shelter with. What he saw was a pile of the bones of some small animals which something had dragged into the cave - most likely to eat them. And huddled there in the back of the cave were puppies - a bunch of little glowing eyes looking at him.  Veer also noticed that there were small sticks, and pieces of wood and forest refuse which animals had dragged into the cave over the years. Not much wood but enough to fuel a small fire for a short time. Darkness returned as the candle guttered out but Veer was no longer afraid.

Veer
spent the next few minutes feeling around and gathering together the sticks and leaves from the cave floor and struck a few sparks from the flint to light them and soon had a small fire going. There was enough light for him to see the puppies clearly. They were just mutts - not wolf pups or anything special - just the pups of some old dog who had decided to use this cave as her nursery. There seemed like a lot of them for one litter but he didn’t bother to count them. The puppies looked just old enough to have been weaned and they kept a wary eye on Veer but also kept looking at the deer. “You’re just hungry and afraid to come near me,” Veer said to the puppies. “Someone should eat this deer, why not you.” Veer took his knife and stripped away some of the skin of the deer and began to cut off small pieces and toss them to the puppies who began to eat the pieces of meat. “There’s plenty,” Veer said to the puppies as they began to fight over the pieces and Veer began to hasten and cut faster.

Eventually the puppies seemed to be slowing down as they got full
of the meat. Veer also noticed that almost all of the fuel for the fire was gone and it would be just ashes soon.  One puppy was watching Veer and had moved a bit closer to him. This puppy seemed a bit smaller than the others and had bright green eyes that seemed to almost glow. The puppy moved within reach of him and he put out his hand so the little dog could get his smell. Faster than Veer could react the little beast snapped at him and he realized that he had been bitten.  He yelled at the dog and kicked at it as it growled at him and ran away. The little green eyed dog tried to return to the other puppies but they snapped at it and made it stand alone some distance away from them.

Looking at his hand
Veer could see that the little dog had left two tiny puncture marks and his hand was losing colour around the bite. The hand which had been bitten began to sting and really hurt. He saw that his hand was starting to swell and feel cold. The feeling of cold started to spread up his arm and Veer once again began to shiver. His hand felt like it was on fire but the rest of his body was becoming very cold.  Veer grabbed the blanket and wrapped himself in it against the chill that was overcoming him as he started to feel his exhaustion and leaned down to lay his head on the saddle.  The firelight was slowly dying and Veer noticed another larger puppy approaching him and he tried to kick it away from him. He looked again at his swollen hand which now burned and throbbed. The puncture wounds were oozing a greenish liquid and looked more like a snake bite than a dog bite.  In the last flickering of the fire Veer looked at the puppy which had bitten him and the dog lashed its tail and hissed at Veer as he looked into its glaring reptilian eyes. “What are you?” Veer whispered into the descending darkness. As Veer felt himself slipping toward sleep he could also feel a warm tongue begin to lick his hand.