My sister was sitting on a log, with her hands on her face and tears streaming from her eyes. Little Abus, the youngest of her children, was clinging to her skirt and crying too, though it seemed more in reaction to his mother’s tears. Alais, Gebhard, and Ysolt were also very upset, though in a more detached manner. Although Aghiard was their mother’s brother and not a complete stranger, they were part of Haerveu’s lineage and members of his clan. Probably Berth and Alrik, if Berta were ever to die, would have a similar reaction, and I myself barely remembered the death of my father’s sisters.

Heike’s father approached me, looking at me with understanding. 

“I’m sorry for what happened. You have my deepest condolences,” Angilbert said softly, his mouth movements barely visible under his thick beard. 

“It has been a hard time for our entire clan. Many have died because of that thing,” I said, pointing my gaze towards the sled that towered over the crowd. 

“But how is such a thing possible? Until now, I had only heard of dragons in the legends my mother used to tell me before bed.” 

“I know as much as you do.”

The arrival of Gunnar with the dragon, even covered with the cloth, was like a boulder thrown into a pond for the celebrating crowd. Everyone wanted to know what was under there and what it meant for the tribe. After I had told Haerveu what had happened, he had immediately gone to speak with his clan leader to report everything, as he was sure he would want to know what had happened.

I turned to my wife, who was trying to console Berta. Another woman, about my sister’s age, arrived with a face contorted with worry. 

“My cousin’s husband told me what happened. I’m so sorry,” the woman said, sitting on the log next to her. 

“Gonda! Aghiard is-” Berta didn’t finish the sentence and threw herself onto her friend’s shoulders, who hugged her and let my sister cry on her shoulders. 

“Stay with her, I’ll keep looking for them,” I said to my wife, who nodded in agreement.

I walked away from the group, just before an elderly woman approached Heike to try to talk to him. The various clans, subtly but visibly, had grouped together while mothers, daughters, sisters, and cousins moved among the various groups like ants searching for food for the anthill.

In that din of thousands of people talking to each other, suddenly a man’s cry of pain stood out, and I made my way through the crowd to see. 

Wallia, holding a knife still stained with blood, was screaming in rage with tears streaming down his face while a man tried to hold him still. Not far away, another man, probably belonging to another clan since I didn’t even recognize him by sight, was shouting obscenities while holding his cheek with part of his tunic already soaked in blood. I tried to find my mother in the crowd, but I only found Berth, who was watching the scene, petrified. 

“What is happening?!” I asked, putting as much authority as possible into my voice. 

“That demon-possessed boy suddenly appeared and tried to kill me!” the man accused, continuing to dab at his wound. 

“You lied, you were… you were lying…” Wallia was completely out of control, barely able to form a coherent sentence.

“You now drop the knife and come with me!” I said, approaching him while simultaneously putting my body between him and the man. 

“Are you his father?” he asked, looking at me with disdain. 

“No, I am his Householder.” 

“You owe me compensation for this!” he said, shaking the blood-stained cloth. 

“I will make sure to compensate you for the damage, but I will discuss it with your family head later. First, I need to take care of the boy,” I said, taking the knife from Wallia to emphasize the point. 

“I really hope so,” he added before leaving with some men. A woman, perhaps his wife, joined him to check the bloody wound. 

Only when he had moved away did I turn to my nephew, and the man who had held him let go, trusting that I would prevent him from following. 

“Where is your grandmother?” was the first thing I asked him, noticing that my mother was nowhere to be seen. 

“I don’t know. She just said you would find us,” he said, still panting. 

I looked towards Berth, who still seemed scared. I gestured with my hand, trying to show that even though I had shouted, I wasn’t angry with him, and only then did he run to me. When I no longer had to worry about losing him in the crowd again, I turned back to Wallia, who was still looking in the direction the man had gone, tears in his eyes. 

“For heaven’s sake, what got into you?” I shouted. 

“He was talking about the dragon and… and…” The boy’s face turned even redder, and his jaw clenched. His hands closed into fists so tightly that I saw blood seeping through his nails. 

“Speak!” 

“He said it was Gunnar who killed the dragon,” he finally spat out, his throat tight.

It was like getting punched in the gut, and for a moment, I felt my breath catch. It was true that I hadn’t claimed the dragon for myself, but all the heads of families knew that it was because of Aghiard that it had died, or at least that Gunnar had nothing to do with its killing. I realized, however, that barely half of the householders knew this, while the other half were either dead, or not in a condition to have seen anything.

Anger began to build, but unlike the boy, it wasn’t directed at the man he had attacked, who had only reported what someone had told him. No, my anger was directed at the one who had spread these rumors to inflate his image in the eyes of all the clans.

I forced the boy to look me straight in the eyes, trying not to pour the anger I felt at that moment onto him but attempting to remain authoritative. 

“What you did is serious; there is nothing that can justify it. When we return to the clan, you will receive a severe punishment,” I said. He looked me in the eyes, his beardless face showing a storm of emotions that I couldn’t fully see, but in the end, his gaze lowered in resignation, and he followed me with his head down.

As I returned to where my wife and sister were, I heard my name and turned around. Leodegar was running towards me with an indignant look, though I immediately understood it wasn’t directed at me. 

“Hildiric, have you heard the rumors that are spreading?” he asked. From his face, it seemed as if the words themselves had a disgusting taste. 

“Unfortunately, I wasn’t the first to hear them, but yes.” 

“Gunnar is behaving in a truly despicable manner. May the trolls take him away,” he said, spitting on the ground. “What an ungrateful piece of shit.” 

“After what happened between Aghiard and his lineage, it was quite normal that the clan leader didn’t like the idea of making him a hero,” I commented bitterly. 

“If it hadn’t been for what happened, he would never have become clan leader. Even so, taking the glory instead of a dead man is despicable.” 

“Are you suggesting challenging him to a duel?” I said, extending my arm to highlight the bandage. 

“I will try to let the truth be known,” he assured me, although I knew it made no sense. Many would have already heard the correct version. It would probably circulate among the clans along with various other stories, changing as it passed from mouth to mouth. It didn’t matter if not everyone believed it; the mere fact that among the various stories there was one about his fight with the dragon automatically increased his prestige.

Before he could leave, the night filled with the sound of horns, and the conversations died down until only that remained. The light of several torches emerged from the darkness of the forest, and the crowd split in two. On the other side of that path through the crowd, I saw Heike and his father, who saw me at that moment.

From the thick of the forest emerged men wielding large staffs, dressed in brightly colored tunics, and finally the Reiks and his wife, riding side by side. The Reiks was imposing, with a thick red beard streaked with gray. He wore a vermilion tunic with yellow designs that almost looked golden in contrast to the torchlight, held at the waist by a belt to which a sword with a gilded bronze hilt was sheathed, as he was the only one allowed to carry weapons. On his shoulders was a large bear fur, tied at the neck by the skin of the paws, with the jaws seeming to close over his head, letting the long canines frame his intense golden eyes.

His wife was no less impressive: almost as tall as her husband, with chiseled features that made her more striking than beautiful. She wore a long white dress held by a belt with a gilded bronze buckle. A fine linen cloak covered her shoulders and head, from which golden curls escaped, framing sapphire blue eyes.

Guided by these two beings cloaked in an almost divine aura, the Reiks’ clan paraded with them, though they were much less impressive. The procession passed through the crowd to a stone platform set against a rock wall. Above the base rose columns of carved stones, so ancient that only stumps remained, arranged in two semicircles that closed on a long stone table. All the columns were of a sandstone white color, except for the last two, one of red stone and the other of a bluish stone, whose surviving carvings suggested that originally one represented a female figure and the other a male figure, though nothing remained above the chest.

These two columns framed an opening in the wall that seemed to have known the kiss of the chisel, although ivy had covered what wind and rain had not erased. From the cave emerged a group of ethereal figures, covered in long, wide robes of a blue color that made them seem almost woven with the sky. They wore grand headdresses hung with veils, making it impossible to distinguish any features.

The last of them carried a gold cup encrusted with precious stones. The Wise Men sat at the table, until the last one standing placed the cup in the exact center. The moment it touched the stone, tall golden flames rose between the columns, illuminating the platform completely, and despite being used to it, those closest took a step back.

The men who preceded them parted, and the Reiks and his wife, alone, climbed onto the platform and went to stand at the center of the table. In front of everyone, standing so that all could see him, the Reiks raised the cup and began to drink its contents. For a moment, small dark veins appeared on his hands, around his mouth, and on his neck, but they disappeared as soon as he put the cup down. His wife did the same, and the same marks appeared on her for as brief a moment as her husband’s, and she sat down beside him. 

“Let the clans come forward!"