The First Dragoneer (2 page)

As silently as he could, Brendly took in a
deep breath as the magnificent beast stepped out of the tree line.
Cautiously, it moved into the clearing and looked around.

It was a white stag, majestic and awe
inspiring. Its antlers were long, and only slightly curvy. They
twisted and forked only thrice, and in perfect symmetry. The stag’s
chest was thrust forward showing its dominance of the forest, and
its short white fur was clean and glossy, like frozen snow. It
strutted toward the pool with kingly grace. Its large black eyes
didn’t dart around as the does had. These eyes were full of
confidence. There was only the hint of the creature’s natural
caution showing in them. Throughout this forest of paupers and
peasants, this creature was royalty. As far as non predatory
animals went, this was the undisputed king of the forest.

March dropped his aim slowly. He wanted to
look and see if Brendly was about to take the shot, but he was
afraid to take his eyes off the rare beast that stood before him.
Thousands of camp fire stories ran through his head, all of them
about this legendary creature. He was taken by its beauty, and
suddenly he didn’t want Bren to take its life. This was the moment
in time that he wanted to remember when he thought about his home
and his friend. No matter how far away he traveled, or what his
situation might be, he wanted to be able to close his eyes and know
in his heart that this creature still roamed the valley around
Prominence. He would live his life knowing that he and Bren had
been graced by its presence.

Brendly’s heart was trying to pound out of
his rib cage. Instinctively he began to calm himself enough to
steady his aim. What a reception they’d have if they returned to
Prominence with such a kill. His father would beam when he told
folks of his son’s bounty. All the other hunters would envy him and
March forever.

Brendly took his time and lined up the shot
perfectly. He wanted to hit the stag’s heart. He carefully checked
the range to determine the slight arch he had to consider to place
the arrow where he wanted it to go. It wouldn’t do to let this
creature suffer. He finally got the white furred buck sighted. He
knew his shot would swiftly end its life. With a sigh of
resignation, he let out his breath and made to let his shaft
fly.

Suddenly, March jumped from the bushes,
waving his arms like a mad man. “Run away!” he screamed at the top
of his lungs.

Brendly’s arrow went astray, flying well over
the stag and disappearing into the forest. The stag raised its head
from the pool and snorted its disapproval over the interruption.
Proudly, the magnificent animal strode out of the clearing,
disappearing as if the two boys were of no concern.

“
Don’t stop running!” March yelled.
“Don’t ever stop.”

“
Why March?” Brendly asked. He wasn’t
angry, but he was far from pleased. He had his shot lined up
perfectly. He could already see the look of pride in his father’s
eyes at the sight of such a kill. He could even feel the
congratulatory pats on his back from the other hunters. Then March
had jumped out and ruined his moment. He looked at his friend with
a questioning glare.

“
Promise me Bren,” March started with a
look of wild elation. “Promise me that you’ll never kill that stag!
I don’t care if you see him a thousand times after I leave.” March
waved his arm around stupidly causing Bren to laugh and lighten his
mood. “You can’t ever kill such a majestic and beautiful
animal!”

“
You’re as crazy as a bald-eyed
giboon,” Brendly said as the tension fell completely away from him.
“I had him, you know!”

“
Yes, I know. That’s why I scared him
away.” March’s smile was wide and infectious as he walked over
putting his arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Just think, if you’d
killed him, then we’d have to pack him back down into town and our
hunt would already be over. This way you can live all of your days,
knowing in your heart, that you had the white stag in your sights
but chose to let him live on.”

Brendly thought about that for a moment, then
laughed at March’s cheer. “So what do we do now?”

“
Let’s go back to camp and eat a bite,
then go exploring.” March was feeling electric. His blood was
charged. He felt immortal. “Let’s go all the way up to the
ridge!”

“
To the ridge?” Bren questioned, with
only a hint of alarm in his voice. He too was feeling the
invincibility of youth coursing through his veins. He was now bound
and determined to make the best of what was sure to be the last
hunt he ever had with his best friend. Adding a little danger to
the kettle only seemed to make the idea of it all the
better.

They ate and then broke camp. Neither of them
was able to sit still for any length of time. To make it to the
ridge before nightfall would be easy, but to find a safe place to
camp up there might take hours. They moved with intensity and
purpose as they gathered their things and loaded their packs.
Neither of them wanted to have to search out a place to camp in the
dark, and building a fire too close to the ridge would only serve
to alert the wilder things to their presence. As adventurous as
they felt, there were things in the Teeth that they didn’t ever
want to cross paths with, and they both knew it.

The climb grew more laborious the higher they
went. With every step the air grew thinner, the foliage thicker,
and the ground less agreeable to their soft leather boots. When
they were finally forced to make camp, the ridge was still a
quarter mile above them. It was getting dark and they were relieved
that they could make a fire. They were still well within the
kingdom’s patrolled boundary. They didn’t have to worry about
anything attacking them. This would allow them to sleep without
watches. This way they would be able to explore the ridge in the
morning, in the daylight.

The colder, higher altitude demanded that
they keep warm, and they wasted no time using the dusky light that
was left to gather wood and get a blaze started. They strung their
canvas on a rope between two pines at the edge of the tiny clearing
they had chosen, and settled in for the night.

Unlike the previous night, there was no
glorious view of the valley below. Pine trees, shrubs, and boulders
spread out in every direction, as far as the eye could see, which
was only about twenty paces. They sat and ate dried beef from their
packs as the last of the sunlight faded from the world. After a
time, March started rummaging through his pack, with a wicked grin
on his face.

Noticing this, Brendly spoke up. “What is
it?” he asked.

“
I was gonna save it for after we got a
kill, but now seems like a better time.” March handed something to
Brendly.

It was a silver flask. Brendly could tell by
the weight of it that it was full.

“
It’s Master Beryll’s strongest plum
brandy!” March informed before he snatched it back from Bren. He
pulled the stopper, took a long pull, and then nearly spewed it
back out of his mouth as the burn of the fiery stuff hit his
throat.

Laughing, Brendly took the flask back from
his red faced friend, and took a few small sips. “You sip a brandy,
March,” he said knowingly, before the burn hit his throat as well.
“Whew, you could burn green wood with this stuff. This is raw
brandy hooch, not plum brandy.” He passed the flask back to
March.

They each took a few more sips and agreed to
save the rest for another day, but they’d each had enough to get
them warm and light headed. Around them, the night song of the
higher altitudes began to sound, reminding them that they were
close to the boundary.

“
Do you really think I’ll marry Canda
Shellings?” Brendly asked after the long silence. He was trying to
take his mind off of the eerie sounds of the night.

“
Her, or Deanda,” March teased. “They
both giggle and blush, and carry on when you pass them.”

“
No more than Jeana Hallin does you,”
Brendly returned defensively. He noticed an immediate sadness take
hold of March at the mention of her name. “What does she think of
you leaving?”

“
She’s so perfect and understanding
sometimes, but lately she’s hard to be around.” March sat up
quickly. He was determined not to let his good mood slip away. “All
in all I think she’s just another sad sack, like you.” He punched
Bren lightly on the shoulder. “She’ll get over it.”

“
It’s not that I’m a sad sack, March. I
just--” He looked around the camp searching for the right words as
if he might find them roosting in the pine trees or hiding in the
thicket. “Who’s gonna help me terrorize Quinton? And who is gonna
race me to the short dock when the krill begin to spawn?” Bren
forced a laugh. “And who’s gonna come out here and traipse through
the woods with me and scare the white stag off when I have the
perfect shot lined up?”

March smiled broadly at his friend. “He was
magnificent, wasn’t he? Did you see his antlers? They looked like
flaming ice.”

“
Yup, he was amazing.”

“
I won’t ever forget that moment as
long as I live Bren, the way he snorted when I jumped out of the
bushes. I think he was laughing at us.”

“
He wouldn’t have been laughing if you
hadn’t jumped out when you did.” Bren smiled at the
thought.

“
I don’t think you’d have done it,”
March’s voice turned serious. “When it came time to loose you would
have balked, or missed on purpose. Not even you, the great Brendly
Tuck, could have killed such a creature.” March stood and yawned as
he stretched out his arms.

“
Maybe not,” Brendly conceded. He
wondered if March was right. He lay awake a long time after his
friend was asleep, wondering about just that.

Bren woke with a shock as icy cold water
splashed across his face. March’s hysterical laughter filled his
bewilderment. The sun was already up. The sounds of the birds
chirping and whistling filled the cool air between March’s deep
belly roars of mirth.

March handed Bren a pan full of scrambled
grouse eggs that he had collected and cooked earlier. With a
grimace of friendly disapproval, Brendly took them and woofed them
down with his fingers. After that, they put their bulky packs under
the canvas shelter and checked their gear. They each tested the
sharpness of their long skinning knives and made sure that they had
plenty of arrows between them. They put enough water and dried beef
for the day in their belt pouches and left the things they didn’t
think they would need. March pushed his head, and one arm, through
a coil of rope and checked to make sure he had his tinder box. They
were both accomplished hunters and had learned from experience not
to go off unprepared. Bren even went as far as putting a small wood
ax in his belt.

It took longer than they thought it would to
reach the ridge. When they finally got there they were almost
disappointed not to see hoards of kobles and wood trolls gathering
on the other side. What they found was a small valley, very small
compared to Prominence Valley. The dense forest continued down the
steep terrain to the valley’s floor some three hundred yards below
them. There, a small stream could be seen through the treetops
winding its way down the hill.

Not far below them, the trees gave way to a
rocky outcropping that looked interesting. Without a thought, March
started down toward it with only a smiling glance back at Bren’s
hesitation.

Swallowing his nervousness, Bren hurried to
catch up. He nearly tumbled over his feet as the steepness of the
slope was revealed. By the time he reached March’s side, he was out
of breath, and more than a little worried.

It only took them a few minutes to get to
what turned out to be a flat shelf of rock that protruded out over
the tree tops. On either side of the shelf, the trees and the
undergrowth were as thick as thieves at a festival, but for this
one small area, about a hundred paces wide, the rocks
prevailed.

March eased out to the edge to look down at
what he was sure would be a cliff like plummet into the sea of tree
tops below. Bren stayed back and nervously waited for March to tell
him what he saw. After a few moments, March stopped his cautious
approach. He then pulled the rope he was carrying back over his
head and began uncoiling it.

“
I’m going all the way out to the edge
to look.” March looked excitedly back at Bren then threw him one
end of the rope. “Hold this in case I slip. I don’t want to go all
the way over.”

“
Here I was worried about you leaving,”
Bren joked sheepishly. “You’ll not live to set foot out of
Prominence Valley.”

March grinned as he tied his end of the rope
around his waist. “You’re a bald-eyed giboon, Bren,” March laughed.
“We're not even in Prominence Valley anymore.”

“
Oh. Yeh.” Bren swallowed hard,
remembering that they were also beyond the kingdom’s
boundary.

“
Now come on, gibber lips,” March
chided. “The ropes not long enough for you to stay way up
there.”

Bren eased close enough so that March could
lean out over the edge. He found a depression in the rock where he
could dig in his heels and create leverage if it became necessary.
When he saw March get to his belly and began crawling out, he dug
in any way.

“
Don’t fall, March!” Bren yelled out as
his daring friend got to the edge and looked over. “What is it?
What do you see?” His curiosity was drowning his
concern.

March quickly scooted back and stood up. A
giant smile had spread across his face. When he saw how eager Bren
was to know what he’d seen he purposely kept from saying
anything.