CHAPTER 2
✧
Erif pounded the glowing steel. The sword was taking shape nicely. He placed it back in the fire for a while before removing it to shape it further. This would be a longer sword than Warriors used. It was much longer than the sword he carried now. It would take time to master. Time did not matter. He had nothing but time out here.
His thoughts turned to his beauty; his wife. He missed her deeply. Tama had such warm eyes and a smile that made all anxiety melt away. Her hair was golden, a bit wavy and often a little messy, but that was all the more attractive to Erif. Tama had always been there, a rock to hang onto in the storm. She was not forceful or aggressive, simply steady and consistent. She loved him as much as he loved her.
It had been nearly a season since he’d seen her. She was almost the only good thing left in his life. He was fighting for her and the children as much as for himself. He had gotten her letters, ferried out to the island every moon cycle by the guardian. He knew that she was still waiting for him. He drew strength from that.
Erif plunged the hot blade into a barrel of water. Steam rose to his face. He closed his eyes and breathed it in. It felt cleansing, somehow. He grinned; it was amazing how such simple things were pleasant when everything else-his friends, family, village, home and trade-had been stripped away. He placed the sword aside and walked away from the makeshift forge he had made in an outcropping of rocks on a small hill above his camp. He walked out onto a sand ridge that paralleled the coast and looked out over the ocean in the distance. Above the utter silence of the island he could hear the water sweeping against the sand.
He turned and gazed over the dunes on the beach, plains of scrub grass above and rocky hills behind him. Only the faint breeze accompanied him in this desolate place. Yet he was surprised to realize that he was at peace, even in his loneliness. He would see Tama again, he was certain. And he had a purpose now, though Zul had not been entirely clear as to how that was to play out. He took a deep breath of sunset air.
“I will return to you, Tama,” he said aloud, “I will return.”
✧
Raef woke the next sunrise to the sound of visitors outside the house. He sprang off his straw bed and ran to the front door, bare foot and still wearing his night robe. His father was in work clothes talking with a family in a horse drawn cart out in the road. The cart was a long one with two sets of large wooden wheels but no cover. There were only a couple of small wooden boxes in the otherwise empty cart. He recognized Keever’s father and mother sitting on the driver’s bench. Raef did not see Keever anywhere.
“What is Father doing?” Raef asked his mother as she joined him at the door.
“He’s going to Pine Creek to help move Keever’s grandparents. They are moving to our village.”
“But, where is Keever?”
“At a relative’s house.”
Raef watched thoughtfully. Folor got in the cart and sat on a small box in the back. Keever’s father snapped the reigns, and the cart started off down the dirt path but became stuck when the right rear wheel fell into a deep rut. The horse tried to pull but the wagon only moved a bit forward before rocking back again into the rut. Keever’s father put down the rains and started to get out, but Folor jumped out first and ran behind the cart. Folor squatted behind the stuck wheel, grasped it firmly and with a grunt lifted the wheel and the back corner of the cart off the ground.
“Pull ahead!” called Folor.
Keever’s father sat quickly down and coaxed the horse forward. The cart moved forward with Folor following, still holding up the back corner. He let go once they cleared the rut. Folor may not be a Warrior, Raef thought, but he is stronger than nearly all of them. Raef watched as Folor vaulted onto the cart. Folor looked back at Raef and his mother, smiling and waving as the horse pulled the cart away.
“Why is Father gone so much?” asked Raef.
Irah joined them at the doorway, her hair not yet combed and looking a bit sleepy.
“Because so many people need his help,” said Raef’s sister. “After all, Intercessors are supposed to help everyone.”
“Even Warriors?” asked Raef.
“Yes, even Warriors,” said his mother.
Raef stood and watched the cart ride down the path until it went around a corner and out of sight. His sister disappeared into the house again.
“Mother,” he asked. “Where are my grandparents?”
Malta leaned against the doorpost and was silent for a few moments.
“Your grandparents? What brought that up?”
“Everyone else has grandparents, but I’ve never seen mine. Do I have any?”
Malta reached down and stroked Raef’s head, combing his hair down onto his back with her fingers. He liked it when she did that.
“I’m sorry, Raef, but all your grandparents died seasons ago, before you were born. You never got to see them.”
“Oh.”
He wondered why he had so few relatives compared to his friends, but he decided not to ask about it. His mother’s expression had grown dark, and he didn’t want to upset her. His sister reappeared shortly wearing her nice dress and with her hair braided neatly. She was carrying her alms basket.
“Where are you going?” asked Raef.
“To the Intercessor’s kitchen then to old lady Naba’s to bring her whatever food has been prepared. She has not been feeling well, so I’m going to sit and visit with her awhile as well.”
“You mean, you’ll sit and listen a while,” said Raef’s mother with a smile.
“Mother!” said Irah. “She’s just a lonely old woman. She needs someone to talk to, that’s all.”
“Raef,” Malta said, “why don’t you go along with Irah? Naba would love to see you.”
“No, no, no, no, no,” said Raef, shaking his head, “it’s dull as dirt at Naba’s house!”
His mother laughed, “It’s not that bad, Raef.”
But Raef ran back in the house and to his bed. He tossed off his night robe and pulled on his trousers, wrapping the tie straps around himself and tying them in front as best he could. The scabbard holding his eating knife had been permanently attached to the left tie strap by his mother, and he felt it flap against his right side. He pulled his leather shoes over his feet and tucked his trouser legs into the uppers of his shoes, then wrapped the laces up over his calves and tied them below his knees. He inspected his attempts at tying his trouser ties and shoe lacings. They would not hold long but he did not want his mother’s help. She might make him go with his sister. He quickly slipped on his long sleeved shirt and short-sleeved tunic over it. He then went to the back of the house, opened the window shudder, and shimmied outside before his mother came back inside to find him.
With Folor gone his mother would be less strict with him. He wanted to leave before she found something for him to do. The back wall of his home was just a few paces from the edge of the forest so he ran quickly into the tress before he was caught. He slowed only after the fir trees closed around him and his house was no longer visible. The coolness of the forest touched his face. He was free. There would be no lessons as it was the first sun’s journey of the new moon cycle. Only the most necessary of tasks were performed on the first sun.
He wandered aimlessly into the forest, even though he’d been warned to stay on the larger trails to keep from getting lost. Those trails no longer held his interest; he’d seen them all. He pushed through ferns and crawled over rocks, looking for some new adventure. He paused beside a towering fir tree, leaning his shoulder against its ancient crackly bark and looking deeper into the forest. This tree was as far as he had ever gone.
He knew his parents would not want him out this far, but he had been here several times. As he peered deeper he was disappointed that everything looked the same as the rest of the forest. But what if there was something different out there further? Way out in the mysterious woods. After a few moments of nervous anticipation he dared himself to walk deeper into the t
rees. When he wandered so far he feared he was lost, he did find something; a trail he’d never seen before. It was very faint and overgrown, leading even deeper into the forest. A deer trail, he imagined, or maybe some other animal. He picked his way gingerly down the old trail to find out.
The trail wound between thick trees and down into a ravine. Everything was dark and shades of emerald. The trees dripped with moss and all the ground was covered in fern. Slim, lacey maples grew below the larger firs, stretching their fingers in all directions. As Raef tiptoed over ancient moss a sound broke the silence. Raef froze. It sounded like someone giggling up ahead, not too far away.
The noise was coming from directly down the path. He strained his eyes and thought he saw a lighter spot up ahead. A clearing. He had never imagined a clearing would be so far out from the village. He crept quietly towards the light and hid behind a patch of dense ferns at the edge of the opening.
Raef saw a young greenling of perhaps thirteen seasons laughing and running barefoot through the grassy space. What he saw just beyond the greenling sent ice through his veins. On the other side of the clearing, not more than a dozen steps from the greenling, lay a dark, oily dragon, draped across the grass like a monstrous snake. Raef froze. He felt as if his heart had stopped, and he could barely breath. It was as long as three houses, and its back was taller than a rooftop. Then Raef noticed a long tail move that was wrapped back along the length of the beast, making it twice as long as he first thought. It was a shadowy thing and hard to make out, it’s head was raised up on a serpentine neck weaving very slowly from side to side. Something hung down over the edges of the looming head, drifting and shimmering in the breeze. Raef realized the dragon had hair on its head that hung almost into its dark green eyes. Near the back of its head, where ears might be, a pair of spikes curved up and back. The protrusions moved, raising up and then drooping down against its neck as Raef watched. The thing had a long snout with wide nostrils at the end that flared from time to time. Its mouth hung slightly open exposing a sickly salmon colored tongue and two huge fangs nearly as long as Raef was tall. Raef felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He wanted to run, but his eyes were glued to the terrifying image in front of him.
The underside of the dragon’s long throat was milky colored and made of wide plates like the underbelly of a lizard. The dragon rested lazily on its elbows with long black talons loosely clasped in front, as if it was folding its hands. Along its back was a ridge of more dark hair in the form of a mane that stood a bit up from its spine and drooped over on one side or the other. The mane went down its spine all the way to the tip of the very long tail. The sun glinted off the dragon’s inky scales illuminating rusty speckles beneath the oily sheen. Raef found it quite ugly to look at. This was no shadow in the sky. It was the real thing, the beast itself.
The sound of giggling snapped him back to the present, and the greenling came into view. The greenling turned so Raef could see his face and Raef recognized him. It was DeAlsím, a greenling two or three seasons younger than Irah from a Merchant family who frequented the Ceremonial Lodge. DeAlsím looked tiny next to the dragon. Raef nearly panicked as he watched the greenling run up to the dragon’s talon, touch it, and dart away again. Raef was certain DeAlsím would be eaten right in front of his eyes. The greenling ran a short ways from the dragon and fell down laughing into the grass. The dragon peered down at DeAlsím, tilting its head to one side. Raef tensed, willing DeAlsím to get up and run.
DeAlsím did get up, but Raef watched in disbelief as he ran back to the beast, touched its huge talon, and ran away again. The dragon gazed after DeAlsím, but made no move to hurt him. Raef’s mind spun, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. DeAlsím continued his game, laughing so hard now he could hardly run. Then the dragon lazily lifted its foreleg and extended a claw in DeAlsím’s direction. It was all Raef could do not to scream out loud. DeAlsím dashed away, laughing hysterically. The dragon slowly put its claw back on the ground.
Raef’s fear slowly melted into confusion. They are playing, he realized. DeAlsím is playing a game with the dragon. The dragon that eats people. Here it was, right in front of him, the dragon playing with DeAlsím and making no attempt to harm the greenling. Raef watched as DeAlsím stood up, ran up to the dragon, slapped one of its talons and looked up into the face of the thing. The dragon slowly extended a talon towards DeAlsím, but the greenling ran away, laughing. As Raef continued to watch he slowly realized that he had never heard anyone say they’d actually seen the dragon eat anyone. In fact, he had never heard anyone speak about seeing the dragon themselves. Yet anytime someone went missing, the village said the dragon must have eaten them. He wondered if perhaps this was one of those stories parents told younglings to keep them from going too far from home. Do adults really believe the dragon ate people? Maybe it did, and Raef would soon see DeAlsím eaten alive. A chill ran down his spine.
DeAlsím continued to tease the great beast. The dragon would occasionally reach out and almost touch DeAlsím, but it always allowed the greenling to get away. After a few more turns, the dragon looked away from DeAlsím and glanced in Raef’s direction. It seemed to look right at the spot where Raef was hiding. Raef went cold, but the dragon looked away again. Raef tried to calm himself. Certainly it could not have seen him through the dense fern. DeAlsím collapsed in the center of the clearing, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The dragon bent its enormous head over the greenling and sniffed him. DeAlsím reached up and touched the dragon’s snout. While DeAlsím kept a hand on the beast’s snout, the dragon unfurled enormous leathery wings. Then with a single flap its great wings lifted the dragon into the air. The gust of wind bent the surrounding trees and nearly flattened Raef’s hiding place. Raef could now see that the dragon had both front and hind legs, each bristling with sword-like ebony talons. Moments later the dragon was gone from sight. DeAlsím got up, still panting, and walked to the trail. Raef crouched low to hide, for he was very near the trail himself. DeAlsím passed by and did not seem to notice Raef. Raef waited until all was silent, then waited some more. When Raef was sure DeAlsím was far away, he crept back to the trail and headed home.
He felt his heart pound in his chest as he made his way back to a more familiar forest. He had witnessed something outside his imagination. Something dangerous. Something that felt forbidden, but somehow exciting. Something he knew he must keep secret.