Dragon Stones (Book One in the Dragon Stone Saga) (5 page)

“Alright, I’ll take the butter. Come back
with it and we’ll trade.”

And so it went on like this for several
minutes; the village housewives haggling back and forth. Few had
any coins, but all of the women wanted to trade.

Elias watched the lively exchange for a few
minutes before continuing on his way. In the village square, the
cottages were built closer together. The homes were all small,
painted white, and made from rock or mud brick. In the heart of the
village, there was a cluster of shops. The butcher, the
candlemaker, and the local glazier all ran their businesses here.
Elias kept walking briskly and reached the last two homes, which
were backed up against the forest. Only two structures stood in a
snow-covered meadow. One was the farrier’s place, and the other was
Frogar’s house.

Frogar was a scrap dealer. He bought all
kinds of rubbish. The outside of his shop was filthy, the ground
littered with garbage. The inside was even worse. Boxes stacked to
the ceiling; every inch filled with empty jars, gadgets, and dusty
knick-knacks. Frogar lived in squalor, but was actually quite
wealthy.

Elias walked into the shop, and a little
bell rang on the doorjamb announcing his arrival. After a few
minutes, Frogar shuffled to the counter.

“What do you want, boy?” His body smelled
sour, like old whiskey. Frogar’s cheek was stuffed with chewing
tobacco, and he spat into a brass cup. Elias’ nose wrinkled, and he
put his hand up instinctively to hold his nose, but caught himself
in time. He didn’t want to put Frogar in a bad mood.

“I have something to sell. A jewel.”

“A
jewel
, eh? What kind of
jewel?”

“An emerald! And it’s as big as an egg!”

“Bah! Sure it is!” Frogar frowned. “Do you
think I’m a fool, boy? Blast you for waking me and wasting my
time.” Frogar turned and started to walk away.

“Wait! Don’t leave. It’s real!” Elias cried.
He reached inside his tunic and pulled out the deerskin sachet.

“I don’t buy river rocks,” said Frogar. But
he waited.

“I swear, it’s real.” Elias placed the
little pouch on the counter, and it opened like a flower, revealing
the emerald inside. “It’s a dragon stone. I found it in the
forest.” Frogar’s eyes popped.

Elias heard Frogar’s quick intake of breath.
Frogar was a practiced negotiator, but even he could not hide his
surprise. “Let me see it, boy.” His wrinkled hand reached out to
grab it.

“No!” Elias snatched it back. Frogar’s
eyebrows went up.

“Don’t touch it—I don’t trust you.”

The old man’s eyes narrowed. “I need to
touch it—to make sure that’s it’s real. Otherwise, how can I offer
you a fair price?” He leered, revealing yellowed teeth.

“I might be a boy, but I’m not a fool. You
know the stone is real. If you want it, offer me a fair price right
now. Otherwise, I’ll travel to Jutland and sell the stone there. In
Jutland, there are even greedier merchants than you!”

Frogar scowled. “Why you… little snot-nosed
bugger!”

“I don’t want to argue! What is your price?”
Elias was starting to feel nauseated. His throat was dry, choked by
the dusty air.

Frogar shook his head, and his face broke
into a wicked sneer. “You’re nothing but a young fool! You have no
idea what you have. I do not want your dragon stone, stupid
boy.”

Elias’ mouth dropped open. He hadn’t
expected that response from the old man.

“That stone is a curse. No one will buy it.
Not here, not in Jutland—not anywhere. It will bring you nothing
but misery. Now get out of my shop before I throw you out.” His
voice rose to a shriek at the end, and tobacco-laced spittle flew
from his mouth.

“I-I don’t believe you. I’m going to sell it
and make a nice profit, you’ll see!”

Elias pocketed the stone and walked back
outside into the snow. He looked back, and saw Frogar observing him
through a filthy window. He was laughing—a cackling, unholy laugh,
that echoed down the road. The hair on the back of Elias’ neck rose
and his heart filled with fear.

Elias ran all the way home.

***

Chapter 4: The Death
Sands

Dozens of soldiers lined up like dominos in
the desert heat. Archers patrolled the lookout towers. Parthos was
a meticulously planned city, designed in layers whittled from the
mountainside. The city was a fortress, with successive safety walls
and defensive bulwarks. It backed up against a mountain, and was
surrounded by sheer cliffs on either side.

Everything in Parthos ran with a crazed
efficiency that ensured its continued survival. The city was built
on a natural spring that ran year-round. There was a natural oasis
nearby, and it even allowed animals some limited grazing around the
city perimeter.

An aqueduct system, combined with mandatory
rainwater collection tanks on every roof, assured that city’s
inhabitants always had enough water. The homes inside the city
walls were small, with flat roofs, designed to save energy. The
mud-brick homes weren’t much larger than sheds, but they were
functional, staying cool during the day and warm during the chilly
desert nights. Some citizens even lived in remote caves on the
mountain, doubling as permanent look-outs. Heavily guarded
underground tunnels led to catacombs stocked with provisions—the
city always operated as though it was under siege.

Guardsmen stood alert at the city gates,
minding their posts in silence. They rotated every hour to drink
and cool down. The walls were never unattended. There were also
soldiers on mounted patrol; the men rode camels instead of horses.
The finest camel breeders worked in Parthos, and nomadic tribes
from the Death Sands ventured there to improve their stock.

The city’s camels were well-trained and
suited to the dry environment. The animals could go several days
without food or water, and could live up to fifty years. The camels
retain water so efficiently that their dung could be burned almost
immediately after it is excreted. The dung was a substitute for
firewood in the desert.

Camels are intelligent and fast, able to run
without stopping for many leagues. The king’s camel herd numbered
into the hundreds, supplying his people with meat, milk, and
fuel.

Inside the city walls, the
streets bustled with activity. Most of the inhabitants were
involved in trading or smuggling, and Parthos was recognized for
its busy open market. The narrow streets were crowded with street
merchants. Dealers, camel traders, and nomads all came to Parthos
to buy and trade goods. On one corner, a merchant sold mesquite
pods, a native desert food that could be ground into a hearty
flour. Another sold prepared cactus leaves, sliced and ready to be
cooked. Even more sold camel milk and yogurt, which was always
abundant and nutritious. Fermented camel’s milk (called
shubat
) was sold all
over the city.

There also a few outsiders; ebony-skinned
nomads selling their wares before heading out to the desert again
in the evening. They sold bone knives, saddles, dried goods, and
beaded leather clothing. Their women sold intricate baskets,
hand-woven so tightly that they could hold water.

The city was alert… but at peace. And
overhead, observing everything, flew a Dragon Rider.

It was Sela and her carnelian dragon,
Brinsop. The dragon’s rust-colored scales glittered in the
blistering sun. Sela’s dragon was full-grown, and as a carnelian
dragon, she was the smallest of the species. But she was still an
impressive sight. When standing on her hind legs, Brinsop was over
fifteen feet tall, and weighed more than the largest horse. Her
scales matched the color of the gem at her throat. Sela, her rider,
wore the gem’s counterpart proudly on her neck, hung from a thick
silver chain. It was the only jewelry she wore.

“Sela, how are you holding
up? We have been out here for hours already, and it seems hotter
than normal today.”
Brinsop communicated
with Sela using the dragon stone. To an observer, a dragon’s speech
sounded like grunts and snorts, but Sela understood the dragon’s
speech perfectly.

“Perhaps we should go back. I am getting
uncomfortable in this heat, and my waterskin is empty. Let us
return to the castle, rest for a moment and eat.”

Brinsop turned, flapping her wings in the
stagnant air. She circled and landed on the castle ramparts. There
were two other dragons there. It was Orshek and Karela, the
orphaned clutchmates. They sunned themselves lazily, rubbing their
black hides ecstatically on the warm earth. Their mother and other
siblings had been killed by dragon hunters less than a few months
ago. Orshek and Karela survived because they had hatched weeks
early.

The hatchlings had been
exploring inside their birthing cave when the dragon hunters
descended on their family. Orshek and Karela could hear their
mother shrieking with fear and agony, and as they rushed back to
the nest, their mother sent them a desperate telepathic
message,
“Stop! Stay hidden! Stay silent!
Do not show yourselves! Stay hidden! Stay silent!”

The siblings huddled together in terror,
hiding while the dragon hunters slaughtered their mother and the
rest of the hatchlings. When the dragon hunters searched the rest
of the cave, the hatchlings concealed themselves. They escaped
detection, but were too afraid to leave the cave. Instead, they
struggled in the darkness for weeks, hunting mice and eating
insects. They could smell the rotting bodies of their mother and
siblings. At one point, they heard vultures and other scavengers
fighting over the carcasses.

Weeks passed. Orshek and Karela existed in
darkness, surviving on bugs and rats. Sela and Brinsop found them
by chance, while exploring the outskirts of the Death Sands. The
hatchlings were so emaciated and skittish that Sela had to cast a
slumbering spell upon them and drag them out of the cave by their
feet. Brinsop carried them back to Parthos one at a time.

In Parthos, they were treated and
rehabilitated. The black dragons were considered juveniles now, but
their bodies were underdeveloped. Onyx dragons are traditionally
one of the largest dragon species, usually growing larger than a
house. But after weeks of malnutrition and lack of sunlight, the
hatchlings’ growth was stunted. Eventually, they would mature
enough to bear the weight of a rider, but they would never develop
to the size of a normal black dragon.

Orshek and Karela became attached to
Brinsop, the dragon who saved them. In time, they even started
calling her “mother.” Even now, they played on the castle roof
because they preferred to keep Brinsop within their sights.

“Look at you two,”
growled Brinsop affectionately.
“Playing like baby hatchlings while the rest of
us labor in the heat!”

“But mother, we await your
return,”
said Orshek.
“Remember—you promised to take us hunting for wild
ostrich.”

“Orshek, I never promised to take you
hunting for ostrich. I told you and your sister to go hunting—by
yourselves. I want both of you to go out and practice hunting. You
know that I cannot go with you; I have my duties here with Sela.
Stop squandering away your time. You don’t have to go far, but do
try to catch something larger than a rabbit for a change.”

“Why won’t you come with
us?”
pouted Karela, who was the shyer one.
She, more than her brother, bore the emotional wounds of their
isolation. When Brinsop went away on a scouting mission for a few
days, Karela refused to eat.

“When I was a hatchling,
dragons half your age were already hunting on their own!”
said Brinsop, exasperated.

“Karela, please understand, we cannot leave
the castle when we are on watch.” responded Sela. Sela communicated
with Karela and Orshek using her dragon stone. The young dragons
were too inexperienced to block Sela’s communication. They were
forced to listen to her. They both sulked, but didn’t say anything
else.

“Sela and I are on duty
for the next four days. Why don’t you ask Charlight and Hanko if
you can go with them? They are planning a hunt this
evening,”
suggested Brinsop. Brinsop tried
to encourage the adolescent dragons to explore the countryside,
make friends with the other dragons, and enjoy hunting prey, but it
was difficult. They were still dependent on Brinsop and Sela for
everything.

“We don’t want to go with
Charlight and Hanko. They’re so bossy!”
said Orshek.

Shlickt! Brinsop swatted
the two with her tail.
“Stop complaining
and go do something useful! Don’t just lie here terrorizing the
guards!”
Brinsop snorted smoke and rose up
on her hind legs, demonstrating that she was serious. The little
dragons frowned and scuttled away. They looked back a few times,
trying to stoke some pity. Brinsop held her gaze steadily, and
pointed out towards the desert. Once the young dragons reached the
end of the wall, they took flight, exploring the desert by
themselves.

“Finally!”
snorted Brinsop.
“Those
two grow more stubborn every day,”

“They won’t go far.”

“I know. But it’s a start.”

“They are obstinate because you spoil them.
One minute you bellow at them, and the next minute you coddle
them,” said Sela.

Brinsop sniffed, but she
did not argue.
“I worry about them. They
are not growing normally. Karela is so fragile, and Orshek is
overprotective of his sister. They are fearful. There are so many
unresolved issues. If they cannot overcome them, they will never be
able to take a rider, or even defend themselves
properly.”