Blood of the Dragon: An NA Epic Fantasy Page 2

  Lana grabbed the mutton and held it close to the hatchling's face. Its eyes opened to bare slits and its tongue snaked tentatively out of its mouth. After tasting the object and determining the intentions of its holder, the newborn lifted its head weakly and took a small chunk of the leg in Lana's hand. The purple creature, who her father had named Tilor, rested his head back into her father's lap and slowly chewed the mouthful of food. Her father smiled slightly at the little creature, and he and Lana began to enjoy their breakfast. After pouring coffee for her father, Lana ripped off chunks of bread and slathered them in butter and jam while he devoured the bacon. Then they sat by the sleeping hatchling as her father related the story of his birth.

  "As you know, Tyona alerted us to the first crack yesterday morning. I checked on her throughout the day, but things seemed to be running smoothly. When I left for dinner, he was on pace to come early this morning, but by the time I got back, he had hatched. I heard Tyona screaming from the other side of the pens and ran to the hatchery as fast as I could. Nilon was pulling Tilor from the stall and both of them were covered in blood. Of course, the little fella didn't want to leave his mother. They never do. It takes coaxing and care to get them out safely, but you know Nilon has never been one to give an inch when it comes to dragons. That man has no right to work in a hatchery. None. He is brutal and violent and we could have lost this little guy."

  Her father stroked the hatchling's sleeping brow. "He has three broken ribs, a broken leg, and his wing is torn, not to mention this cut on his face. I used the rest of the soothing oil to calm him down enough to tend his wounds, after I sent Nilon away, of course."

  Lana wiped a tear from her cheek as she looked at the beautiful creature laying in her father's lap.

  "Papa, why are people so cruel to dragons? It's not like they're stupid. They're not like cows or pigs or something. I mean, I've sat and talked with Mynora for hours. She's one of the best friends I've got. And yet people like Nilon beat them, and we have to keep them in cages. Why don't we just let them go?"

  Her father wrapped an arm around his daughter and pulled her close. He kissed her forehead and whispered, "There's a lot going on that you don't know about, honey. It's an awful situation, and someday it will be different. I promise. In the meantime, be as nice as you can to them, but stay within the rules. Don't draw attention to yourself for being overly nice, but don't go out of your way to be mean. Just keep doing what you've been doing, and it will all work out. I promise you."

  Lana looked up and saw her father's eyes glistening. She knew he was telling the truth and that one day his promise would come to pass. They spent the next hour in silence, listening to Tilor's slow breaths grow increasingly faint. With a stern nod from her father, Lana got up to leave. As she was closing the door to the stall, she heard the newborn gasp for air one last time. She didn't look back as she left the nursery.

  Chapter 3

  Chelandra's face was streaked and stained by the time she reached the edge of the woods. She sat on a downed log and buried her head in her hands. The rustle of leaves caught her attention and she turned quickly.

  Behind her stood a tall, olive-skinned woman with heavily painted eyes and unnaturally red lips. The vision was swathed in intricately patterned orange and green skirts and a heavy, brightly colored shawl. Her long, flowing hair was jet black and adorned with jewels of every color. A red scarf held the hair back from her face and trailed across one shoulder. The woman stepped closer to Lana and pressed a leathery hand to the girl's cheek. Lana saw that each finger held a large, gaudy ring and the nails were painted a dark blue.

  "What could possibly put this lovely child in such a state?" Her voice was smooth and deep, soothing and gentle.

  Lana threw her arms around the woman and sobbed into her shawl. "Oh, Belli! It's so awful. Nilon killed a baby!"

  Bellithana stiffened, but did not release the girl. She stroked Lana's hair and muttered calming words, despite her inner fury. "There, there, child. All shall be put right. The time is almost near."

  Once Lana regained her composure, she allowed Bellithana to wipe the tears and dirt from her cheeks. Taking the girl by the hand, the woman led Lana through the woods along a faint path. After walking for about fifteen minutes, the two ladies broke through the brush into a large clearing.

  To the north, a swift stream cut the top off the clearing. Women and girls in layers of bright clothing stood on the bank gathering water to boil for washing clothes or cleaning used dishes. Several men further downstream fished from a dock suspended over the frigid waters.

  A large corral to the west held nearly a hundred horses of all ages and colors. Foals frolicked with their mothers while stallions challenged each other for authority. Donkeys and mules grazed contentedly as men in wide-brimmed hats broke yearlings. Conjoining pens near the corral held sheep, cows, pigs, goats, and some strange creatures Lana had never seen before. Chickens, ducks, and other poultry ranged free throughout the area. A couple of dragons lounged on the far side of the pens, bathing in the sun and idly watching a group of young children play nearby.

  In the center of the clearing was a big fire pit, currently a smoldering pile of hot ashes, over which a dozen black kettles were hung. A steady breeze blew a mixture of smells to the newcomers, ranging from savory chicken broth to sickly sweet soothing oil. Two women gathered around a large vat of steaming water, washing dirty clothes. Colorful wagons of all shapes and sizes were arranged in three concentric circles around the fire pit. The largest, circular and bright blue, was located in the center ring and was two stories tall.

  Bellithana led Lana through the maze of wagons, children, and chickens to the steps of the blue wagon. An old man sat on the steps, surrounded by several kids, none older than eight. The children's faces radiated awe and excitement as the man's story drew to a close. Amid clapping and happy chatter, Graol Reck rose and embraced his daughter and her friend.

  "Belli, my dear, you have brought us the lovely Chelandra. Why do you both look so grim?"

  With a look from his daughter, he led the girls into the wagon. It was much larger on the inside than it looked from the outside. The main room was bathed in sunlight from large windows on either side. Whimsical gold curtains framed the windows and gold and silver fabric draped over nearly every surface. Plush cushions covered in deep oranges, reds, and yellows surrounded a low forest-green table in the middle of the floor. Colorful paintings hung on every wall and lamps were placed strategically on stands to give the interior a bright, natural light. A beaded curtain covered the doorway to the kitchen and bright green stairs led through a hole in the ceiling. In the center of the table, a porcelain tea pot portrayed Gypsy women dancing in various garments, while matching cream and sugar bowls held similar visions of children.

  Bellithana poured three cups as Lana and Graol took their seats. She related what she knew of the catastrophe in the hatchery and Lana filled in where she could. When all was revealed, they sat in silence for several minutes. The tea remained untouched and grew cold. The screaming laughter of children outside the window brought them all out of their rumination.

  Graol cleared his throat and looked from Bellithana to Chelandra. His gaze settled on Lana and he spoke softly, as if deep in thought. "I think it is time."

  Lana saw Belli stiffen and nod almost imperceptibly. "Shall I call the meeting?"

  Graol jumped at Belli's voice, but composed himself quickly. "Yes, yes. Set it for tomorrow evening. It is time."

  Bellithana took Lana's hand and together they left the wagon. As the door closed behind them, they heard Graol mutter, "It is time."

  Stepping out into the sun, Lana noticed a young, gangly man standing at the red wagon across the way. Her mood brightened immediately as she recognized her best friend.

  "Bolgor!" The boy looked up just in time to catch her as she sailed into his arms. Laughing, he twirled Lana in circles until they were both too dizzy to stand, then they plopped down on a log by the fire. Bel
lithana caught up to them and joined them both on the log.

  "Hello, Bolgor. How nice it is to see you again."

  "Heya, Belli. Nice to see you too. I need more of Tom's Special Ale. We are almost out, and you know how bad it is if we run out." Lana saw Bolgor wink at Bellithana and a sharp pang of jealousy ripped through her heart. She dismissed it immediately, writing it off as stupid and childish.

  "I need some soothing oil," she broke in. "Papa used the rest this morning. Then I need to get back. Myno wants me to read to her for a bit. Bolgor, will you take me back?"

  "Yeah, of course."

  They said goodbye to Bellithana. The woman slipped a small book into Lana's pocket and whispered, "Read this. It is my father's."

  Lana nodded curiously and they retrieved the goods they had come for from the red wagon. Bolgor had brought a wagon for the kegs of Tom's Special Ale, and he helped Lana up onto the seat. Her unusual silence gave Bolgor concern.

  "What's up, buttercup?" The nudge of his elbow brought a glare from the other seat.

  "I've had a bad day." Tears began rolling down her cheeks again. Bolgor stopped the wagon and put his arm around his friend.

  "Shh, shh. Don't do that." He wiped away the tears with the sleeve of his sweater. "Come on, now. Tell me what happened."

  Lana related the story of Tilor's demise one more time, cradled in Bolgor's strong, comforting arms.

  "Oh, Lana. I'm so sorry." The brush of his lips on her hair brought a small smile to hers, which she quickly concealed by pressing her face into his chest. She then told him what Graol had said about it being "time."

  "Really? He said it's time? Wow."

  Lana pulled back from Bolgor and looked at him suspiciously. "You know what he meant?"

  The blush that rose to the boy's cheeks proved that he did indeed know what the old man meant. "I see. And you won't tell me, of course."

  In a huff, she got off the wagon and began walking back to the village. Bolgor called after her. When she didn't stop, he jumped off the wagon and raced to catch her in his embrace.

  "Look, I can't tell you. I want to. You have no idea how bad I want to tell you. I've wanted to tell you for so long. But I can't. I'm sworn. They are going to tell you. I know they will. If they weren't, he wouldn't have said anything."

  The look of sincerity on Bolgor's face brought truth to his words, but she still wanted to be mad. Why was everyone keeping secrets from her? All her friends had lied to her about something. Who else was in on it? Her parents? Old Man Withers? Lana allowed herself to be led back to the wagon and climbed up next to her friend. He put his arm around her and they rode in silence back to the tavern. As she was getting ready to leave, he pulled her close and he kissed her cheek.

  "It will all work out." His whispered promise followed her home.

  Chapter 4

  Lana headed home for lunch around midday. Her house was second to last on a street near the pens. It was small, only two bedrooms. There was a front porch just large enough for two wooden rocking chairs, one on either side of the steps. Just inside the rough, wooden door was a small entry way. On the right, a row of wooden pegs held jackets, sweaters, and scarves. A box underneath the pegs contained hats and gloves. To the left, a shoe rack was placed above a shallow bin to collect any snow and slush that sloughed off the drying boots.

  Rough-hewn steps led to the two rooms upstairs and a door at the end of the hall allowed easy access to the outhouse. A doorway to the left showed the kitchen, where Lana's mother spent a large portion of her time. A large wood-burning stove sat along the far wall and a half-empty box of wood sat next to it. An unopened door led to the pantry.

  Back in the hallway, the first door to the right led to the small living area. This well-used room held a wooden bench lined with a long, soft pillow, as well as two more wooden rocking chairs. A fireplace was the highlight of the room and the chairs were arranged around it. In front of the fireplace rested a caramel-colored dog about the size of a sheep. It perked up its ears as Lana walked in, but made no move to get up.

  Lana glanced around the room and noticed her father already sitting at the small table by the door. She took one of the remaining chairs just as her mother entered the room carrying a tray. On the tray was a fresh loaf of bread, soft butter, and a cast iron pan full of beef chunks and sizzling vegetables. She set the tray on the table and took a seat between Lana and her father. She served the family dinner as her husband poured them all tea from the copper pot hanging over the fire. They spoke very little, all of them already worn from the taxing events of the day. After the main meal was eaten, Lana's mother sent her into the kitchen to retrieve the tarts she had prepared for dessert. They each ate one, then they split a fourth.

  After dinner was over, Lana helped her mother clean the table and wash the dishes. As she was getting ready to leave, her mother slipped a parcel into her sweater pocket.

  "This is for Myno." A sly wink told Lana what was in the package. Her mother and father often sent Lana with secret treats for the various dragons in their care. She had been sternly warned since the time she could talk to never speak of the gifts to anyone but her parents. Though she knew others were in on the secret, she kept her lips sealed on the matter, knowing it meant certain punishment should the wrong person find out.

  Taking the parcel and her new book, Lana headed back out into the chilly sun. She made her way past the pens to the hatchery and found Mynora's stall. After greeting the dragon and verifying that they were alone, she slipped the package from her pocket and fed the two tarts to Mynora. The creature savored them, knowing the perils such treats put the girl and her family in. A toothy smile cracked the scaly face and Lana wiped some crumbs from Myno's lips. Then she settled down next to the dragon and pulled out her book.

  "I have a new book for us today. Belli gave it to me when I was at camp today. It's her dad's, I think." She looked at the worn leather cover and read the title. "It's called Tales of the Dragon King."

  Mynora stiffened immediately. "Have you read any of it yet?"

  "No." Lana looked quizzically at Mynora. She could see fear and excitement hidden in the deep green eyes.

  "Listen, Lana. There's something we need to talk about." Myno lowered her voice to a bare whisper and glanced around for other humans. Only a few were assigned to the hatchery, all of them under Lana's parents' direction. The guard on duty could be seen down the aisle, sound asleep in a pile of straw, cap pulled over his eyes, feet propped up on an overturned box. "Has Graol told you anything about the dragon king?"

  "No. I told them about Tilor and he just said 'It's time'. Then as I was leaving, Belli slipped this book into my pocket."

  Mynora nodded thoughtfully. After a long pause, she declared, "I think I had better give you an idea of what is in that book. You cannot share this information with anyone, aside from your parents. They know all this, and we have been waiting for the right time to reveal it to you."

  Lana leaned forward and listened intently. She loved all stories, whether they were written or oral, and Mynora was a fantastic storyteller.

  "Long ago, more than 300 years ago, there was a thing called the Coalition of Man and Beast. It was a group of humans, dragons, and Hidden. Do you know who the Hidden are?"

  Lana nodded tentatively.

  "They are creatures that cannot be seen by normal means. Only certain Gypsies and a few dragons with special powers can see them."

  Lana cried, "I remember! Graol told me about the Hidden once at the Gypsy camp!"

  "Hush, child! That is information you should keep very close to your heart and only share with those you trust with your life. Being a Gypsy in this day and age is a dangerous thing. Have your parents never explained that to you?"

  "No, they have. I just always forget. Graol and the others are so nice and everything. I just don't understand why anyone would want to hurt them." The girl blushed shamefully and quieted down.

  "Well, as I was saying, there was the Coalition of Ma
n and Beast. Aron (I'm sure you've heard of him in school referred to as a king) decided that the Coalition was no longer fit to lead and began rallying people to his cause. He drew both men and dragons to his side, but few Hidden would allow themselves to be swayed. Sigurd, who was a red dragon and also known as the King of Dragons, decried Aron's selfish and evil desires and the two kings met on the battlefield.

  “Aron's army, which was more than twice the size of Sigurd's, defeated the red dragon and his legions. Sigurd was cruelly slain and his mate, Silene, was captured. She later died in a dungeon below Aron's castle. It is rumored her corpse was never moved and that the bones remain there to this day." Mynora paused. "Most of the Gypsies, who never swayed and remained loyal to Sigurd to the end, escaped along with some humans and dragons, with the aid of the Hidden. They have roamed Layr since then, doing what damage they can to Aron's deceitful rule, trying to free dragons and men.

  "Dragons have not always been enslaved so, you see. We are a noble species, most of us. There are some vile beasts, such as Apoph, who turned their backs on their own kind during the war. He was blacker than the blackest depths of hell, and he turned many dragons and men against the Coalition. Apoph was Sigurd's younger brother. His deceit caused the death of his own sibling, and he had no remorse."