Chapter 13

The Dragon Slayer: a Tale of Joro

Chapter 13

The road north proved to be a treacherous one. The further they went the less road there actually was. Soon they were relying solely on Ren’s keen sense of direction as a guide towards Padure. The cold still hangs like a limp corpse as they move. Countless clouds blanketed the sky not allowing a single ray of sunlight to break through its tight wrappings. They reached a village, laid waste and abandoned for many years. Not a single living thing resided amongst the crumbled debris for all seemed to have deemed it a fools hope to do so. There supplies were scarce. Ren hangs on to his last few sips of ale like precious gems. The lack of wine and ale was taking a toll on him. He was disconnected an often slinked off by himself into the night. The only other comfort he seems to have been the will to fight. If it were not with Amalya or himself, he would go alone. Arthur often heard him bashing at the sides of trees well into the early morning hours. He did not sleep well without his sweet nectar.
Ren was off somewhere looking to snuff out his longing for a good long swig. It was morning and Arthur begins to break down the camp. Amalya reluctantly helps, though the hard cold ground from the previous evening had not treated her well. She groans with discomfort, “I never thought I would miss my bed so much.”

“We still have a long way to go yet.”

“I do not wish to know how long…if you say long…it is long enough.”

Arthur cannot help but smile at his sister’s grumpiness. They just about finish up when Ren returns from his nightly skulking. He looks terrible; the lack of wine and ale has done quite a number on his wellbeing. He did not appear to be bothered by his sullen appearance, surely he had gone though this many times before.

“Mornin’,” he shuffles over to Amalya and hands her a book, “This here’s yers I believe.”

Amalya looks down horridly. She grabs up the book and clutches it to her chest, “Where did you get that?”

“It was lyin’ out in the open, fancied myself a read.”

Amalya studies the pages to make sure nothing is missing. “This is not yours to take.”

“Well forgive my curiosity.” He bows sarcastically and shuffles over to grab his belongings. Arthur finishes up the camp break down in silence. They finally resume their journey onward; the silence still remains unbroken. Amalya’s mood has not changed from when she first woke and the knowledge of Ren’s prying surely did not help matters. Arthur tries to clear his head from the mear thought of that book. He should have burned it when he had the chance. Now it will follow him wherever he goes, the truth lingering just an arms reach away.

Ren, who leads the part on, turns back and glances at Arthur, “So who was she?”

“What?”

“The book…someone’s I reckon.”

Arthur looks away towards the ground, “It was our mothers.”

Ren nods his head and the party continues on. Arthur hopes that would be the last mention of it but he knew Ren’s curiosity was peaked. As much as he denied wanting to know anything about them he seemed pretty interested in what their intentions were for this journey.

“She uh,” he manages to muster out, “She gone then?”

“Yes,” Arthur replies, “she is gone.”

“Seemed pretty keen on dragons; big interest of hers?”

Arthur looks at him cautiously. What was he trying to dig out of him? “They are just stories, nothing more.”

“She was a great storyteller,” Amalya chimes in at their mothers defense, “she told great tales of great deeds.”

“Yer think dragons do great deeds then?”

“I never said that.”

“They did once, before they decided we were no good fer this world.” Ren snorts in discomfort. “Damn creatures.”

“They were here first,” Arthur finds himself saying. He stops himself before uttering another word. Ren looks at him in surprise, “Oy, I see the apple don’t fall too far from the tree, but you have a point there. They were here first.”

“It matters not. They got what they deserve.”

“Did they now?”

“Of course,” Amalya continues to say, “they attacked us first. What did they expect the king to do, let them slaughter his people? Now they are few and we are many. The tables have turned in our favor for a reason.”

Ren breaks into a hearty laugh. Arthur is taken aback in surprise. He watches before the dragon slayer finally composes he, “Yer think it was luck the king got the upper hand in this little extermination do ya?”

He glances back at them, “Don’t think fer a second King Ulfrick has done this fer no one but himself. He’s only after one thing and that’s power.”

“What are you trying to say?” Arthur asks curiously.

“That king,” Ren replies, “Is not all well and good. Not saying the dragons is either. Hate the scaly basterds and they deserve to die…every last one of them.” Again he looks back at them, but this time with a new sense of conviction, “The king deserves to die just as much as them dragons. He’s killed good people; men and women I once called friends. They did nothin’ but what they were told to do.”

He faces onward once again, “Them kings no better then the dragons. The sooner we are rid of them all the better off this kingdom will finally be.”

Using the little light that they had, Amalya and Ren stand facing one another. She watches him closely, awaiting him to launch into his usual frenzy. Ren stands looking very calm, almost as if he were not expecting anything to happen. Amalya stays vigilant. She slows down her breathing as she raises her sword to her chest. Ren twirls his axes in his hands, shaking them as if ready to strike. The tension begins to grow thin. The air surrounding them begins to slowly tighten around them. Amalya hastily jostles in her place quickly glancing up into the sky. The moment she is caught not at full attention, Ren launches an axe clear at her face. Amalya barely avoids its sharp edge as it flies gracefully past her. Ren roars loudly and rushes her, slamming into her already off balanced stance. Amalya falls to the ground barely left clutching her sword. Ren swings down at her with all the power he can muster. Amalya quickly rolls out of the way, getting a better grip on her sword. She launches herself forward, blocking one of his many ruthless blows. Ren pulls back. Amalya stands up and grits her teeth. She charges him, throwing her sword down at his head. Without much effort he parries’s out of the way. He grabs her by the wrist and twists her arm, causing her to drop her sword.

She falls to her knees trying to concentrate on getting out of his hold. Pain shoots through her arm. She desperately tries to concentrate breaking the hold. She lowers her eyes to the ground and finds her opportunity. Leaning forward, despite the added pressure on her arm, she rolls her leg up into his chest. Ren is thrown off guard as Amalya sweeps his feet out from under him. He falls backwards with axe still in hand. Amalya quickly grabs her sword and swings downward upon him. He blocks her, forcing her backwards from his ruthless power. She rushes him again while he is half on his feet. She swings her sword lower then anticipated, hitting him in the lower part of his leg. His face turns beat red. Amalya quickly wheels around to avoid his arms from impacting her. She goes to strike his back, but his foot meets her chest and she is brought down like a heavy cow.

Ren wheels around and stands over her, touching his axe to her throat. His breath is labored but not as much as hers. Amalya stares up at him, sucking in the cold air. Ren eventually lowers his axe. He steps away from her to allow her to get up. Amalya leans on her side, rolling to an upward position. She reluctantly faces him in her defeat,

“That’s the first time you fought back.”

“I didn’t fight hard enough.”

He pulls her arm up so her sword is pressed against his chest. She watches him closely wondering what he might do next. He stands very still without an ounce of fear in his eyes, “ Always make the first move. It may be the only chance you get.”

He brings the sword up towards his neck, resting the point under his chin, “ Fear is what kills ya. Never let it take hold. Always concentrate on the enemy; wait fer them to make the wrong move.”

She watches him lean into her sword. Amalya’s breath quickens. Her eyes follow a blood down his neck onto the fur of his armor. A second later she is on the ground, her sword flies through the air like a newly released dove. Ren stands over her casually wiping the blood from his neck, “Do not hesitate to land the final blow.”

He reaches down and grabs her arm, hoisting her up. He walks over and picks up her sword. Amalya rolls her head back, cringing at the soreness of her body. Ren hands her sword to her, “Finally getting somewhere. I’m impressed with ya.”

“After days of beating me to submission THAT impressed you.”

“ Yer not afraid of anything once you get yourself wrapped around it.”

She gives him a heartfelt smile, “You don’t mean that.”

She cannot help but turn away for fear he might see her blush. Her face turns beat read as she lifts up her hood to hide her embarrassment. Ren reaches out and stops her. He slowly lowers her hood back down to her shoulders; “ Leave that off…”

Amalya turns towards him. His hand gently brushes her cheek before falling back down to his side.

Amalya catches her breath. A mistake, nothing more than a slight slip of the fingers. It was foolish to think it was intentional. It was more foolish of her to read into these subtle signs of attraction. He was doing his job, training her. Physical contact was part of it. ‘Stop being foolish.’ She shakes it off and walks back towards camp with Ren close behind her. She looks back at him and smiles, “I think I pester you too much.”

“I believe you enjoy it.”

“Not at first…”

A monstrous roar cuts off their conversation. Ren stops in his tracks and hunkers downward towards the ground. He pulls Amalya to do the same. She looks around frantically trying to identify the noise. Ren rushes forward, grabbing her arm as he swiftly cuts through the trees. They reach their camp but Arthur is nowhere to be seen. Amalya looks around frantically for her brother, “Arthur?”

The roar echoes through the trees again. Amalya covers her ears with her hands. Ren quickly races forward through the trees as Amalya reluctantly follows. The branches silently touch her face as they move. Ren moves with such quickness, Amalya finds it hard to keep up with him. They reach a small rock bed and stop. Amalya looks around hoping to spot her brother somewhere. She tugs at Rens arm, which remains poised as if ready to strike,

“Ren…we need to find Arthur…”

He turns to her with his finger across his mouth. Once again the roar is heard, this time louder then before. They look up into the fog-coated night to see a very large winged creature stretching across the clouds. Amalya’s face turns white. It’s neck extended outward to an end full of sharp ferocious teeth. Horns coated its body like a heavily armored warrior. Its wings pushed the air around it, causing the wind to tamper with the still trees. They watch the dragon as it flies north. They remain still, Amalya’s heart beating ferociously out of her chest. After a moment, Ren stands up allowing himself to relax. Amalya takes a deep breath, releasing some of the tension from her body.

Arthur burst out of the tree’s into sight. Amalya catches her breath and swings her arms around him, “Arthur!”

He hugs her close as a wave of relief streams across his face, “Thank Marin…”

He looks up at Ren, “ That was a dragon…”

Ren responds with a nod of his head, “That is was…flying our way it would seem.”

Arthur releases himself from Amalya and walks next to him, “Where do you think…”

“He was hunting for something.”

Amalya chimes in softly, “How could you tell?”

Ren reaches up with his hands, mimicking the dragons movements, “He was flyin’ low, gliding mostly. Surprised he missed the tree line.”

“Should we go after him?”

Ren lets out a hardy laugh, “Getting ahead of ourselves are we? He was flying north. Reckon we’ll run into him again along the way.”

Arthur gulps, “Run into him? You sound rather hopeful…”

“Hopeful? It’s inevitable.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 31: The Witches of Andi