Helyna had invited Thorgar and Bessa to dinner that night, and Daegar
couldn't fault her: Thorgar was one of his childhood friends, and he
often came bearing the meat of a freshly downed deer, a welcome addition
to Daegar’s simple diet.
After a delightful meal of roasted venison cooked by Helyna, the candles were lit, Delgar sat down to play, and Bessa joined Helyna in cleaning the plates, knives and cooking spit in the kitchen. Daegar glanced out the window at the starry night, collecting his thoughts and musing on the day’s events with the contentment that only a full stomach can provide.
He gazed at the tall, muscular warrior sitting beside him at the rough wooden table and grinned. Thorgar had decided to leave his farming roots and joined with some reavers ten years ago. Since then, he had become a warrior of increasing fame all over Nordland, and the village considered him to be a protector.
“How does battle suit you?” Daegar asked.
“About as well as farming suits you,” Thorgar replied with a wide grin, a sparkle in his eyes. “The Dragon’s winning this time.”
Daegar looked to where Delgar sat on the ground, playing with his wooden animals. He had gone to Wigmund a couple of years ago, asking the carpenter to make him some animals for his son. Wigmund had quickly delivered a wooden Dragon, unicorn, cow, horse, rabbit and eagle, each exquisitely crafted. Delgar had liked the Dragon and unicorn the most, and the others were soon forgotten.
Making whooshing sounds, Delgar sat, the Dragon in one hand and the unicorn in the other, banging the two together, the mock battle fast and furious.
“You keep track?” Daegar asked his friend, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Thorgar replied, a sudden twinge of sadness in his voice. “Gives me something to do while I pine for a child of my own.”
Daegar grimaced. Thorgar had taken a bride from a raid, only to have her perish in labor. To make matters worse, the child was stillborn as well. It seemed as though something had died in his friend that day.
“I think Delgar’s special,” Daegar said quietly, cursing himself for his timing. But the incident in the field was strange and wondrous, and he had to tell somebody. “Something happened today.”
Thorgar laughed, the sadness not quite replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. “Of course Delgar is something special to you! He’s your son!”
“I mean something out of the ordinary,” Daegar said. “Something that doesn’t exist in other children.”
Suddenly, very interested, Thorgar leaned forward, his brown moustache bristling. “What happened today?”
“We came across a grass drake when I was farming.”
“This is Nordland. Every summer the grasses are full of those timid things. You can’t walk for more than ten feet without running into one.”
“This one perched on Delgar’s arm.”
Thorgar leaned back thoughtfully, his gaze impassive. It was a look Daegar had seen in his friend before, usually when the warrior was considering something of great import. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. I was two feet away at the time.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Thorgar shrugged. “Perhaps it is a portent.”
“Of what? Is it good or bad?”
“The monk would know.”
Daegar shook his head. “I don't trust him.”
Helyna’s plump form bustled out of the kitchen, followed by Bessa. Helyna’s dark hair was ruffled, but her blue eyes sparkled with a passion Daegar loved with all his heart. When Delgar had been born, he did not know if he could ever share his love, but now he couldn’t imagine his life without both of them to complete his spirit.
Nodding to Daegar, she turned to Delgar. “Come on, love. It’s time to go to bed.”
“I don’t want to go to bed,” Delgar whined, putting down his toys. “I want dada to tell me a story.”
“Dada will be up shortly to tell you a story,” Helyna promised. “Now say goodnight to Uncle Thorgar.”
“Goodnight Uncle Thorgar.”
Grudgingly, Delgar allowed Helyna to lead him off into the hallways of the cottage.
“What were you two talking about?” Bessa inquired. She was Thorgar's new wife, a thin woman from the south who the warrior had captured on a raid and promptly fallen for. Daegar only hoped that she would rekindle what was lost in his friend, and at times it appeared that his prayers would be answered.
“Delgar,” Thorgar replied, then turned back to his friend. “Why don't you trust the monk? He is a holy man.”
“His mind is too closed,” Daegar explained. “Anything he can’t understand is the work of the Damned One, and I don’t want to bring Delgar before a man like that.”
“I will respect your wishes,” Thorgar promised, pursing his lips. “By the way, I will be bringing you a sword when we meet next.”
Daegar blinked, startled. “Why?”
“The goblin raiders struck Garson's Peak last season,” the warrior explained. “In a couple of years, they could work their way inland to here. I want you to learn how to use it, my friend.”
“You know how I hate weapons,” Daegar said, unwilling to give Thorgar’s fears any substance. “I’m a farmer, not a warrior.”
Thorgar leaned forward, his eyes eager and serious. “Weapons are a necessary evil. Remember, the Damned One holds as much sway on Mideorth as the Eternal One. I want you to be protected, so Delgar will grow up in safety.”
“I will consider it,” Daegar said, holding up his hand as his friend began to protest. “But that is all I will promise. After all, protecting us farmers is what you warriors are here for.”
“We should go,” Bessa told her new husband, her voice becoming husky. “There are some things I want to do.”
Thorgar grinned as he allowed her to pull him from the table. “Duty calls,” he joked, making his way to the door. “I fear we must take our leave of you. Where is Helyna?”
“I’m here!” Helyna called, rushing towards them. She gave both Bessa and Thorgar a kiss on the cheek, and they watched the two newlyweds walk off into the night, a torch in the warrior's hand.
“You have an early morning tomorrow,” Helyna pointed out.
Daegar nodded. “I know. But I have to tell Delgar a story first.”
Helyna slid up to her husband and pressed herself against him, her hands on his rear. “And I want you too.”
Daegar smiled and kissed her, one of his hands cupping her breast. “Delgar first.”
Making his way down the hall, he turned into Delgar’s room to find the boy humming a nameless tune as he sat in bed, the candle burning low on the table beside him.
“Hello little one,” he said softly.
“Is it time for my story?” Delgar asked eagerly, his eyes afire.
“Oh yes,” Daegar said, sitting down on the bed. “What do you want to hear about?”
“I want to hear about Dragons!”
Daegar chuckled; somehow, he knew that was coming. “Okay, I’ll tell you a story about Dragons. I’ll tell you about the Dragon and the wizard.”
“I’ve already heard that one,” Delgar pouted. “Tell me a new story about Dragons.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you about the Dragon and the maiden,” Daegar conceded, remembering a story from his youth. Somehow, it seemed fitting right now. “Once, a long time ago, when the world was young, there was a great Dragon, the greatest of them all. He had seen the last of the Dragon Masters fall in the great rebellion of Dragons where fire fell to Mideorth and civilization began. This Dragon was named ‘Garasus.’”
“Why was he named Garasus?” Delgar asked, leaning forward eagerly.
Daegar didn't even pause. “Garasus is a name of great importance to the Dragons, and he was proud to bear that name. And, for thousands of years Garasus guided the mortals who came to him with wisdom and honor. But, the years were not kind to him, and as his wealth grew, so did his greed. And soon he became a creature of great evil, and he began to demand tribute from the kingdoms around him.
“At first the kingdoms did not obey, thinking that Garasus would not harm them, for they had all been grateful to receive his wise counsel. But when the tribute did not arrive Garasus took flight, and he burnt many of the cities of Bethara to the ground, killing thousands.”
Delgar nodded, staring at Daegar in rapt attention.
“So the kingdoms began to give Garasus tribute in gold and gems, and soon his hoard became enormous,” Daegar continued. “But there are only so many riches in the world, and the time came when the kingdoms could not give Garasus any more gold or jewels. So they sent representatives to the Dragon, asking what they could give to sate his hunger.
“Garasus thought long and hard, for he had lived for many thousands of years and had experienced much. But he had always been denied one forbidden pleasure. So, he told the kingdoms that he would accept maiden sacrifices to sate his hunger.
“The kings were horrified, but they had no choice. So, they began a lottery, where the names of all the unmarried maidens were placed in a great pot and a name was selected, and every year the maiden selected was fed to the Dragon, who consumed them and only left their bones for any to know they had ever been.
“Many years passed, and then one day the princess of Harboria, Emilye, was selected to be sacrificed, and the king wept with sorrow. But, he was a man of duty, and his daughter understood it too. So, she was tied up to the great stake, and taken to the field where the Dragon feasted, a field filled with the bones of his victims.
“Two warriors were in love with the maiden, and they were named Tarwyth and Idan. Tarwyth was a cruel man who tortured his slaves, and he wanted to have Emilye for his own so that he could kill her father and take the kingdom. Idan, however, was a good, honorable man, who loved Emilye for what she was, and had no ambitions to rule. Both lived in the countryside of Harboria, and both raced to Emilye’s rescue.”
“Does Idan win?” Delgar interrupted.
Daegar smiled. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
The boy frowned. “I don’t like stories where the bad guy wins.”
A grin on his face, Daegar continued. “The two warriors met on the road as Emilye was being tied up on the stake, and they decided to eat together. Tarwyth decided to find out who Idan was, and asked Idan where he was going. Idan was an honest soul, and replied that he was going to save Princess Emilye and marry her. Tarwyth did not say who he was, but began to scheme against the good warrior. Finally, he decided to kill Idan while he slept, so that he would not have to fight him.
“But Idan had a magical shield, and in his sleep the shield warned him in his dreams. The shield could become invisible, and Idan awoke to see Tarwyth standing over him with a sword. Tarwyth said that he had heard something, and Idan nodded and pretended to go back to sleep. He rolled over, though, and grasped his shield, which became invisible.
“Tarwyth decided to strike, but Idan was faster, and placed the shield between himself and his enemy. The sword bounced off Idan, and Idan pretended to wake, asking what was wrong. Tarwyth only said that a branch had fallen on him, and that it was nothing to worry about. Once again, Idan pretended to go to sleep, his magic shield in his hand.
“Tarwyth moved to Idan’s other side and struck with his sword, but again Idan was faster, and he placed the shield in the way so that the blade bounced off. Tarwyth growled in fury and struck again, as hard as he could, but his fury undid him, for the sword bounced back so hard that it cleft his own skull. And thus Tarwyth was sent to the realm of the Damned One, the underworld wherein lie the horrors of the damned.”
“I’m glad Tarwyth didn’t get the maiden,” Delgar declared. “I thought he was stupid, though.”
Daegar raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“I wouldn’t have been fooled by that trick.”
“You probably wouldn’t,” Daegar said, taking up his tale again. “With Tarwyth dead, Idan took his steed and rode as fast as he could to save Emilye. When he got to the field where the Dragon feasted, he found Emilye struggling as the Dragon came closer, preparing to eat her.
“Idan charged, striking the Dragon with all his might. Garasus only laughed, though, and breathed fire at the warrior. But, Idan had his magical shield, and as he hid behind it, enveloped by flame, he saw the one place that Garasus was vulnerable: the eye.
“Idan charged again, driving his sword into the Dragon's eye. Garasus howled in pain and fury, but the blow was mortal, and finally he sunk to the ground, his soul sent to the realm of the Damned One. But the Dragon's blood fell on Idan, and it burned his face, but with that wound came knowledge that the Dragon had.
“Then Idan knew that Emilye could never return home, for she would be considered a traitor and killed. And so Idan freed Emilye, and then took his sword and cut out the Dragon's teeth and planted them in the ground. From the teeth grew a hundred warriors to protect the two, and they went off to get married. Finally, they founded the kingdom of Idonia, but that is another tale.”
Delgar yawned. “Can I have one more story?”
“Not tonight, little one,” Daegar said, beginning to wonder what pleasures Helyna had in mind. “I have to go to bed too.”
“Why was the Dragon so evil?” Delgar asked. “Aren’t there any good Dragons? The grass drake was good. I could feel it.”
“I don’t know,” Daegar answered, musing on Delgar’s words. What if he actually could sense the intentions of a grass drake? He put it out of his mind; it was idle speculation, anyway. “Perhaps some day you’ll find out. After all, perhaps there are Dragons like the grass drakes; they aren't evil at all. Remember the grass drake.”
Delgar yawned. “I will.”
“Goodnight little one,” Daegar said softly.
“Goodnight dada,” Delgar replied.
Leaning over, Daegar gave Delgar a kiss on the cheek, and then snuffed out the candle, leaving the boy to dream of great heroes and Dragons.
After a delightful meal of roasted venison cooked by Helyna, the candles were lit, Delgar sat down to play, and Bessa joined Helyna in cleaning the plates, knives and cooking spit in the kitchen. Daegar glanced out the window at the starry night, collecting his thoughts and musing on the day’s events with the contentment that only a full stomach can provide.
He gazed at the tall, muscular warrior sitting beside him at the rough wooden table and grinned. Thorgar had decided to leave his farming roots and joined with some reavers ten years ago. Since then, he had become a warrior of increasing fame all over Nordland, and the village considered him to be a protector.
“How does battle suit you?” Daegar asked.
“About as well as farming suits you,” Thorgar replied with a wide grin, a sparkle in his eyes. “The Dragon’s winning this time.”
Daegar looked to where Delgar sat on the ground, playing with his wooden animals. He had gone to Wigmund a couple of years ago, asking the carpenter to make him some animals for his son. Wigmund had quickly delivered a wooden Dragon, unicorn, cow, horse, rabbit and eagle, each exquisitely crafted. Delgar had liked the Dragon and unicorn the most, and the others were soon forgotten.
Making whooshing sounds, Delgar sat, the Dragon in one hand and the unicorn in the other, banging the two together, the mock battle fast and furious.
“You keep track?” Daegar asked his friend, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Thorgar replied, a sudden twinge of sadness in his voice. “Gives me something to do while I pine for a child of my own.”
Daegar grimaced. Thorgar had taken a bride from a raid, only to have her perish in labor. To make matters worse, the child was stillborn as well. It seemed as though something had died in his friend that day.
“I think Delgar’s special,” Daegar said quietly, cursing himself for his timing. But the incident in the field was strange and wondrous, and he had to tell somebody. “Something happened today.”
Thorgar laughed, the sadness not quite replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. “Of course Delgar is something special to you! He’s your son!”
“I mean something out of the ordinary,” Daegar said. “Something that doesn’t exist in other children.”
Suddenly, very interested, Thorgar leaned forward, his brown moustache bristling. “What happened today?”
“We came across a grass drake when I was farming.”
“This is Nordland. Every summer the grasses are full of those timid things. You can’t walk for more than ten feet without running into one.”
“This one perched on Delgar’s arm.”
Thorgar leaned back thoughtfully, his gaze impassive. It was a look Daegar had seen in his friend before, usually when the warrior was considering something of great import. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. I was two feet away at the time.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Thorgar shrugged. “Perhaps it is a portent.”
“Of what? Is it good or bad?”
“The monk would know.”
Daegar shook his head. “I don't trust him.”
Helyna’s plump form bustled out of the kitchen, followed by Bessa. Helyna’s dark hair was ruffled, but her blue eyes sparkled with a passion Daegar loved with all his heart. When Delgar had been born, he did not know if he could ever share his love, but now he couldn’t imagine his life without both of them to complete his spirit.
Nodding to Daegar, she turned to Delgar. “Come on, love. It’s time to go to bed.”
“I don’t want to go to bed,” Delgar whined, putting down his toys. “I want dada to tell me a story.”
“Dada will be up shortly to tell you a story,” Helyna promised. “Now say goodnight to Uncle Thorgar.”
“Goodnight Uncle Thorgar.”
Grudgingly, Delgar allowed Helyna to lead him off into the hallways of the cottage.
“What were you two talking about?” Bessa inquired. She was Thorgar's new wife, a thin woman from the south who the warrior had captured on a raid and promptly fallen for. Daegar only hoped that she would rekindle what was lost in his friend, and at times it appeared that his prayers would be answered.
“Delgar,” Thorgar replied, then turned back to his friend. “Why don't you trust the monk? He is a holy man.”
“His mind is too closed,” Daegar explained. “Anything he can’t understand is the work of the Damned One, and I don’t want to bring Delgar before a man like that.”
“I will respect your wishes,” Thorgar promised, pursing his lips. “By the way, I will be bringing you a sword when we meet next.”
Daegar blinked, startled. “Why?”
“The goblin raiders struck Garson's Peak last season,” the warrior explained. “In a couple of years, they could work their way inland to here. I want you to learn how to use it, my friend.”
“You know how I hate weapons,” Daegar said, unwilling to give Thorgar’s fears any substance. “I’m a farmer, not a warrior.”
Thorgar leaned forward, his eyes eager and serious. “Weapons are a necessary evil. Remember, the Damned One holds as much sway on Mideorth as the Eternal One. I want you to be protected, so Delgar will grow up in safety.”
“I will consider it,” Daegar said, holding up his hand as his friend began to protest. “But that is all I will promise. After all, protecting us farmers is what you warriors are here for.”
“We should go,” Bessa told her new husband, her voice becoming husky. “There are some things I want to do.”
Thorgar grinned as he allowed her to pull him from the table. “Duty calls,” he joked, making his way to the door. “I fear we must take our leave of you. Where is Helyna?”
“I’m here!” Helyna called, rushing towards them. She gave both Bessa and Thorgar a kiss on the cheek, and they watched the two newlyweds walk off into the night, a torch in the warrior's hand.
“You have an early morning tomorrow,” Helyna pointed out.
Daegar nodded. “I know. But I have to tell Delgar a story first.”
Helyna slid up to her husband and pressed herself against him, her hands on his rear. “And I want you too.”
Daegar smiled and kissed her, one of his hands cupping her breast. “Delgar first.”
Making his way down the hall, he turned into Delgar’s room to find the boy humming a nameless tune as he sat in bed, the candle burning low on the table beside him.
“Hello little one,” he said softly.
“Is it time for my story?” Delgar asked eagerly, his eyes afire.
“Oh yes,” Daegar said, sitting down on the bed. “What do you want to hear about?”
“I want to hear about Dragons!”
Daegar chuckled; somehow, he knew that was coming. “Okay, I’ll tell you a story about Dragons. I’ll tell you about the Dragon and the wizard.”
“I’ve already heard that one,” Delgar pouted. “Tell me a new story about Dragons.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you about the Dragon and the maiden,” Daegar conceded, remembering a story from his youth. Somehow, it seemed fitting right now. “Once, a long time ago, when the world was young, there was a great Dragon, the greatest of them all. He had seen the last of the Dragon Masters fall in the great rebellion of Dragons where fire fell to Mideorth and civilization began. This Dragon was named ‘Garasus.’”
“Why was he named Garasus?” Delgar asked, leaning forward eagerly.
Daegar didn't even pause. “Garasus is a name of great importance to the Dragons, and he was proud to bear that name. And, for thousands of years Garasus guided the mortals who came to him with wisdom and honor. But, the years were not kind to him, and as his wealth grew, so did his greed. And soon he became a creature of great evil, and he began to demand tribute from the kingdoms around him.
“At first the kingdoms did not obey, thinking that Garasus would not harm them, for they had all been grateful to receive his wise counsel. But when the tribute did not arrive Garasus took flight, and he burnt many of the cities of Bethara to the ground, killing thousands.”
Delgar nodded, staring at Daegar in rapt attention.
“So the kingdoms began to give Garasus tribute in gold and gems, and soon his hoard became enormous,” Daegar continued. “But there are only so many riches in the world, and the time came when the kingdoms could not give Garasus any more gold or jewels. So they sent representatives to the Dragon, asking what they could give to sate his hunger.
“Garasus thought long and hard, for he had lived for many thousands of years and had experienced much. But he had always been denied one forbidden pleasure. So, he told the kingdoms that he would accept maiden sacrifices to sate his hunger.
“The kings were horrified, but they had no choice. So, they began a lottery, where the names of all the unmarried maidens were placed in a great pot and a name was selected, and every year the maiden selected was fed to the Dragon, who consumed them and only left their bones for any to know they had ever been.
“Many years passed, and then one day the princess of Harboria, Emilye, was selected to be sacrificed, and the king wept with sorrow. But, he was a man of duty, and his daughter understood it too. So, she was tied up to the great stake, and taken to the field where the Dragon feasted, a field filled with the bones of his victims.
“Two warriors were in love with the maiden, and they were named Tarwyth and Idan. Tarwyth was a cruel man who tortured his slaves, and he wanted to have Emilye for his own so that he could kill her father and take the kingdom. Idan, however, was a good, honorable man, who loved Emilye for what she was, and had no ambitions to rule. Both lived in the countryside of Harboria, and both raced to Emilye’s rescue.”
“Does Idan win?” Delgar interrupted.
Daegar smiled. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
The boy frowned. “I don’t like stories where the bad guy wins.”
A grin on his face, Daegar continued. “The two warriors met on the road as Emilye was being tied up on the stake, and they decided to eat together. Tarwyth decided to find out who Idan was, and asked Idan where he was going. Idan was an honest soul, and replied that he was going to save Princess Emilye and marry her. Tarwyth did not say who he was, but began to scheme against the good warrior. Finally, he decided to kill Idan while he slept, so that he would not have to fight him.
“But Idan had a magical shield, and in his sleep the shield warned him in his dreams. The shield could become invisible, and Idan awoke to see Tarwyth standing over him with a sword. Tarwyth said that he had heard something, and Idan nodded and pretended to go back to sleep. He rolled over, though, and grasped his shield, which became invisible.
“Tarwyth decided to strike, but Idan was faster, and placed the shield between himself and his enemy. The sword bounced off Idan, and Idan pretended to wake, asking what was wrong. Tarwyth only said that a branch had fallen on him, and that it was nothing to worry about. Once again, Idan pretended to go to sleep, his magic shield in his hand.
“Tarwyth moved to Idan’s other side and struck with his sword, but again Idan was faster, and he placed the shield in the way so that the blade bounced off. Tarwyth growled in fury and struck again, as hard as he could, but his fury undid him, for the sword bounced back so hard that it cleft his own skull. And thus Tarwyth was sent to the realm of the Damned One, the underworld wherein lie the horrors of the damned.”
“I’m glad Tarwyth didn’t get the maiden,” Delgar declared. “I thought he was stupid, though.”
Daegar raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“I wouldn’t have been fooled by that trick.”
“You probably wouldn’t,” Daegar said, taking up his tale again. “With Tarwyth dead, Idan took his steed and rode as fast as he could to save Emilye. When he got to the field where the Dragon feasted, he found Emilye struggling as the Dragon came closer, preparing to eat her.
“Idan charged, striking the Dragon with all his might. Garasus only laughed, though, and breathed fire at the warrior. But, Idan had his magical shield, and as he hid behind it, enveloped by flame, he saw the one place that Garasus was vulnerable: the eye.
“Idan charged again, driving his sword into the Dragon's eye. Garasus howled in pain and fury, but the blow was mortal, and finally he sunk to the ground, his soul sent to the realm of the Damned One. But the Dragon's blood fell on Idan, and it burned his face, but with that wound came knowledge that the Dragon had.
“Then Idan knew that Emilye could never return home, for she would be considered a traitor and killed. And so Idan freed Emilye, and then took his sword and cut out the Dragon's teeth and planted them in the ground. From the teeth grew a hundred warriors to protect the two, and they went off to get married. Finally, they founded the kingdom of Idonia, but that is another tale.”
Delgar yawned. “Can I have one more story?”
“Not tonight, little one,” Daegar said, beginning to wonder what pleasures Helyna had in mind. “I have to go to bed too.”
“Why was the Dragon so evil?” Delgar asked. “Aren’t there any good Dragons? The grass drake was good. I could feel it.”
“I don’t know,” Daegar answered, musing on Delgar’s words. What if he actually could sense the intentions of a grass drake? He put it out of his mind; it was idle speculation, anyway. “Perhaps some day you’ll find out. After all, perhaps there are Dragons like the grass drakes; they aren't evil at all. Remember the grass drake.”
Delgar yawned. “I will.”
“Goodnight little one,” Daegar said softly.
“Goodnight dada,” Delgar replied.
Leaning over, Daegar gave Delgar a kiss on the cheek, and then snuffed out the candle, leaving the boy to dream of great heroes and Dragons.
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