Dragon Vòlkan

Chapit twa (3)

Yo vini pou touye dragon an.

(They have come to kill the dragon.)

Violette was awakened by a strange clacking sound at dawn. Her dream had her in a tree somewhere far away and it took her some moments to orient herself to her surroundings. Soon the dragon was speaking and the answer was in the strange sounds.

The dragon asked how many with shiny equipment, how many warriors and whether there were any pointy hats or beasts. By this time, she had moved herself into position to see the source of the other side of the conversation. It was a giant spider wearing a chef hat. She rubbed her eyes, perhaps the mushrooms she’d had the night before were not what she thought they were. It was still there and still communicating with the dragon with head nods, just as a human would, and jaw clicks.

“I will be ready and we shall get you some juicy guests as well! Ah, Violette, I’m glad you’re up. Meet Arachne, my oldest friend on the mountain. She bakes those lovely pastries you like so much. Some adventurers are coming to slay me and take my treasure today, so there should be some considerable hilarity.”

The spider came rushing up to her so fast that she was startled. She backed away, tumbling backwards over a pile of coins. The creature seemed genuinely offended. She apologized and it approached again, she bowed and the spider tipped its hat. There was a frog underneath the hat, which made her laugh. Neither the spider nor the frog seemed to think it was funny though.

“There’s a chokepoint,” the dragon lectured. “You can’t come up the cliff face unless you can fly and they can’t or they’d be here now. I raise supplies and men by a basket on the cliff, but that would be madness to approach for an attack. Most of the non-cliff terrain is quite impossible and I like it that way. I can fly and Arachne has tunnels filled with traps and vertical places that only someone of her talents can ascend in any reasonable time frame. There is a creek bed that can be used as a trail.” She had seen where the creek passed from the snow capped heights near to the lair. She knew he called it Silver Creek, but did not know why as it in no way reminded her of silver. But it was his mountain and he named things as he liked, she was just glad she’d let her keep her own.

“Most adventurers find and at one particular place I have left them an opportunity to refresh themselves. We shall see if they have taken the bait. Arachne will get round behind them to cut off the retreat. The creature clearly understood what was being said and bowed once more to the dragon and dashed off very, very fast and vanished down a hole.

The dragon directed the elf to get her bow and dagger, which he’d gifted her. She had practiced with the bow and found it to be inferior to what she was used to; however, the dagger was magical - light, sharp and able to pierce even metal. She had no idea what she was expected to do with it; surely, he didn’t expect her to fight at his side against people?

The sun was not fully up in the sky before he carried her to his chosen spot. There was the sound of a trickle of water which was relaxing, she soon saw the source of it as the mist parted for a moment. She also caught a glimmer of silver and remarked upon it.

“14,566 pieces, I keep it here and sometimes draw on it for payments, nevertheless its main value shall be presently apparent,” the dragon whispered in her ear, “defend yourself as necessary; if you kill any, you will get their treasure. Now hush, as the battle draws nigh.” The dragon was perfectly still and kept his eyes focused on the creek just where it went around a bend.

Soon there was the sound of men approaching, the dragon’s ears were keener even than her own; they could not be seen as there was a rise between them that blocked the view. “Treasure!!” came a shout and then laughter. There were excited questions and sounds of splashing and coins ringing. At last, a man appeared around the bend; he was a handsome man at least six feet tall. Clad in chainmail with a glowing sword and shiny shield. She saw his eyes widen right before the electricity coursed through his body. The dragon had breathed lightning on the man and also there were moans and shrieks from those behind him in the creek who were not visible. Cries of alarm, someone tried to grab the handsome man and the dragon; Wakhangli, blasted again bringing down the healer and further electrocuting those touching the water or his silver. The dragon would later explain that silver and water both conducted electricity and that he could wound them without even seeing them. It was quite a nice trick. There was not as much screaming from the second blast, but one wept and both the visible men were surely dead.

The dragon crept forward now ascending a rise where he could enfilade the defenders. She stood there with her bow unsure of what to do. In no way did she want to kill these people, however she didn’t want them to kill her dragon either. She wished she had known what he intended as she might have warned them.

There was a brief and desperate struggle as a rogue crested the little hill and struck at the dragon. He was knocked off his feet and then grabbed in his jaws and tossed like a sack of potatoes. He bounced down the hill and fell at her feet. He had a bite wound, but it was the fall that killed him. She saw him take his last breath as his eyes went blank. She would remember it all her days.

The dragon launched himself from the rise; becoming airborne, then swinging around and aligning himself with the creek bed for a strafing pass. She could hear the men crying out in alarm and trying to retreat. The wounded made moaning sounds. Once more the air was filled with lightning and men flew around like rag dolls. The wild beast landed in the creek with a great crash and then did melee with the unfortunates there. Then he chased the survivors down the mountain. The creek bed further down the only way out was blocked with webs now and Arachne did murderous work as they tried awkwardly to get around. The spider took one side and the dragon the other at the channeling web traps.

She crept forward, trying to see if she could render first aid to any of the fallen. Some were still alive but badly burned, clawed or bitten. She did what she could, salvaging the deceased healer’s items to help. The men begged the elf to help them to survive, she tried to help.

“The dragon knows exactly how many pieces of silver were in the creek. If they are all there when he returns, he may believe you have repented. He has lived here for centuries and knows every inch of this mountain; you cannot outrun him or hide and he knows how many you were when you came. You will all live or die together. Praise him honestly and loftily. Don’t disagree with anything he says, find a way around, if you value the privilege of breathing.” Silver coins splashed back in the creek and even the dead were searched to make sure they did not conceal any.

It was most of an hour before the dragon returned; she drew her dagger and pretended to menace the adventurers. Wakhangli looked mightily pleased with himself. He dumped out a huge bag in which he had all the heads, plus the magic, jewelry, rations and money of the adventurers who had fled. “Well done, Violette!” he said, assuming she had made the men prisoner, “We’ve got them all, by Arachne’s morning count. Have you got their shinies yet?”

She slapped her forehead. “Oh, I forgot, I’m new at this.” She snapped her fingers and demanded everything metal or magic. The dragon helpfully added that they should surrender food, drink and medicine as well. The men tossed anything of value at Violette’s feet. Their eyes implored her.

“I have accepted their surrender. I claim the healer’s items as my own.” she said confidently, though she did not feel confident. “They have all agreed many times over that to trouble such a handsome and mighty dragon was the worst mistake of their lives.” The men echoed her sentiments, playing along with anything she said, weeping and beating their breasts in sorrow while hanging their heads.

“Oh, they always say that,” the dragon said, “and after all it’s true, but then other adventurers come. If I let any of them live, they will pass on the news of my defenses and my helpers and the next group will be even more troublesome.”

“More troublesome,” she agreed, “but still not as troublesome as a flea would be to me. They will spread your glory and your mercy when they return to their world. More people should hear the delightful stories of your power and your genius. Besides, I gave my word…” This seemed to give the dragon a moment’s pause.

The loudest of the men had a harp and he now spoke. “Before you kill us your majesty; and it is certainly your right and almost your duty to do so, I have been inspired with a song of praise to you. It would be a shame if no one ever heard it played.”

The dragon’s head raised up and he seemed to smile. “By all means!” He said, genuinely interested.

He had been making up the song since Violette had advised them. He nodded to a wounded warrior who began tapping out a 4:4 time on a broken shield with the handle of a broken spear. The music of the harp filled the air with a tavern tune to which the man had adapted the words. Now it sang praise to his captor. After that he adapted other tunes, substituting dragons for heroes in some of the sagas he knew. All the captives clapped for the songs and added their own praises of the dragon.

It threw the minstrel off his groove when Arachne appeared and wrapped up one of the dead in silk, claiming her share. One of the other survivors could see their remaining hero needed a moment to compose himself so he interjected, “Why does the great spider wear a hat?”

The spider looked up, cocked her head and made a series of clacking sounds. The dragon interpreted, “Because she can’t find a shirt with enough arm holes.” Everyone laughed and they kept up the merriment long enough for the bard to once again be ready to sing.

The dragon seemed to enjoy his impromptu concert. Every song was about a mighty dragon who was nearly as handsome, wise and strong as himself! As the mood caught him, the mighty Wakhangli danced with his maiden. The bard stepped up the pace and motioned his emergency drummer to do the same. They set a driving tempo as the dragon slid around her, his tongue teasing her ears, mouth and neck. He hissed as he moved in and out; his eyes were mesmerizing. The young woman found herself unable to move or think. She was simply lost in the depths of the dragon’s eyes. For the first time she saw the flecks of gold in the blue. Or perhaps there was a deeper trust beyond the two. Did he know her secret? She found herself experiencing ecstasy, like nothing that had ever happened to her before or that she could have even imagined. She responded to the dance instinctively, clinging to him, entwining him and moaning passionately. The dance came to a frenzied conclusion. The prisoners were stunned, but then they all applauded and cheered the mighty dragon. She fell to her knees; a hunger had been awakened that she didn’t know existed. Violette lost memory after this point though she was sure something else hazy had happened between the two. Somehow, she knew now that her place among the moon elves never again could be achieved. The Elf was deeply connected to the mighty dragon.

He decided that he liked the singers and he saw them as more than just assassins after his treasure, he found in his heart for the first time - mercy.