The Bringer of War

Stella sat still as a stone on the center of the reed mat. Her back was thrust up against her cot in the cramped quarters she had been given, which was hardly much larger than a closet. The porthole was open, a stiff breeze coming through and stirring her thick blanket of hair.

Her eyes were open, but they were not looking at the mundane world. She was following the trail of the dragon, sensing where the waters had been tainted with its blood. Her senses were cast below the waves, the dragon’s blood a dark stain in the otherwise perfect blue. She could feel the meager life forces of other creatures, but they were not what she had cast her mental web to snare.

The line grew taut, and she felt a quiver of fear, for the dragon should have been unaware of her attention. A dot began to grow at the edge of her vision, growing larger with alarming rapidity. It formalized itself into the dragon, but a more grotesque, demonic vision of the beast. Its yellow eyes bore into Stella, and she was sure that their minds touched for the briefest of instants. It knew. It knew they were following it, and it knew that the vessel she rode in also bore the hated man who had blinded it. And it was coming...

Stella rose up from the floor and dashed out the open door of her cabin. She strode a few feet down a narrow, low ceiling hallway and banged on thin wooden door. Seamus appeared after a moment, rubbing his eyes sleepily, as Roikza looked up from the mound of blankets she had swaddled herself with.

“It’s coming for us,” said Stella in a rush, grasping Seamus’s forearms in a painful grip. “We have to get to land, now! Tell the captain to make for land!”

“Stella?” said Seamus blearily. He was stripped to the waist, his eye patch not present. Stella was not even fazed in the slightest by the sight of his ruined socket. “What’s going on?”

“The dragon!” Stella shrieked. “The dragon is coming for us!”

“The dragon is headed for King Drakken’s lands,” said Seams “you told us so yourself.”

“It was,” said Stella “I don’t know, but somehow it saw me. It saw me hunting for it. And now it’s hunting us...”

“This is a sturdy vessel,” said Seamus “I doubt the dragon could sink it, even if it wasn’t grievously wounded.”

“Wounded, yes,” said Stella “but far from dead. I...felt its mind mingle with my own. It hates you, Seamus. It’s being called north by something, a form of magic more....primal than my own. But it’s turning back long enough to kill you! We have to put to land, now!”

“We’re at least a day away from Cesaro,” said Lobo, stifling a yawn. “there is little land to be had.”

A shouting was heard upon the deck of the ship, along with feet beating a rapid tattoo over their heads. Roikza suddenly stood stiff as a rail, her toothy maw hissing in alarm.

“It’s here,” said Stella, her face gone white.

** *

The dragon felt the call, felt it more keenly than the terrible wound in its face. Its instincts were hijacked, making it certain that it followed the call to a perfect place to brood. So on it swam through the salty waters, grown too large for even the toothy-mawed sharks to consider attacking.

Likely, it would have continued on until it made dry land, but Stella’s spell began tickling at the edges of its perception. She had used the blood of Seamus for the ritual, and his blood had been mingled with the dragon’s. So as she saw the dragon, the dragon saw her, and more importantly felt her thoughts knifing through its own. The dragon was not capable of thoughts of vengeance, but the idea that the man who had injured it now was in pursuit summoned up survival instincts. The little two legged animals could not swim well. If they were without their floating bit of wood, they would succumb to the high seas that the dragon silently slipped below.

So it turned, ignoring the call even as it battered the edges of its consciousness. It would not do for the animal to follow it to its new home. The pursuer had to be sent to the bottom of the cold sea...

Able to move much faster than the floating wood, the dragon came upon it quickly. It surfaced long enough to scan with its one good eye. The men on deck shouted, hurling more of the same sticks the folk in the city had. With an angry growl, it opened its mouth and hissed out a stream of dark blue flame. Sails and rigging ignited almost instantly, the flames licking over the ship. A great rush of wind rocked the vessel as the hungry flames sucked air into their luminescent embrace.

Not satisfied, the dragon dove beneath the waters and plunged towards the bottom. The water pushed back, harder and harder, and the dragon used it as a spring to thrust itself towards the surface. The tiny block floating above it grew large and larger, until the dragon tucked its head into its body and prepared for the impact. The boat was thrust into the air, splintering nearly in half. Men both living and dead were shaken into the water like paint from a bristle.

Still fearing the bite of the man’s spear, the dragon circled away. The call came insistent, and with the vessel rapidly sinking below the sea it could no longer deny it. Away it swam, no further thought given to the ship or its inhabitants.

** *

Seamus heard the sharp intake of air into the dragon’s lungs, a sound like a gale. He grabbed Stella and crushed her to his bare chest, diving on the floor as he did so. Roikza darted out the open door, wings flapping loudly. A scant second later blue flame shot in a narrow gout through the porthole, hot enough to blister his back even though he was not in its direct path. He shouted, his scream mixing with Stella’s as the temperature inside his tiny cabin increased tenfold.

“Get off me,” said Stella in a muffled voice. Seamus complied, looking a bit guilty as the wizard gingerly sat up.

“Sorry,” he said.

“For what?” said Stella, rising to her feet with some difficulty. She favored a spot on the left of her abdomen. “Saving my life? You may have broken a rib or two...”

“Not likely,” said Seamus, staring out the blackened porthole. The metal had turned to slag, and he had to keep his face several inches away to avoid being seared by the still present heat. “You’d naught be able to speak so well. I don’t see it. Maybe it thinks it finished the job?”

“I don’t think so,” said Stella grimly, leaning against wooden wall.

“I thought I was the dragon exp-” said Seamus, right before the deck of the ship rose up to slam him senseless. Stella was plastered against the floor as well, her glasses shattering into a dozen pieces. A second later they were tumbling about the cabin, its walls suddenly their floor. They came to rest under a pile of linen, their limbs tangled about each other.

“By the gods,” said Seamus, punctuating it with a groan. “Are you all right, Stella?”

The wizard could only moan. He flung the fleece covers from their heads and found her flirting with unconsciousness, a red mark on her left temple. With difficulty, he rose to his feet, bearing her in his arms. He was covered in tiny cuts and would no doubt have bruises in the morning but nothing felt seriously hurt.

Stumbling, he looked at the door to his cabin, now several feet above him. Seawater spilled into the doorway, and soon he was ankle deep in the brine.

“Help,” said Seamus, his voice joining a chorus of pleas. “Help! We have an injured woman here!”

The big man stared at the floor, then back up at the doorway above his head. He was unwilling to leave Stella in the rapidly filling chamber, but neither could he climb burdened with her.

“Seamus,” said a voice, and he was glad indeed to see Lobo’s face appear above the opening. “Seamus, thank the gods you are all right!”

The minstrel’s blue eyes fell upon Stella, and widened with worry.

“Is she-?” said Lobo.

“No,” said Seamus “but she will surely drown if left here. Can you take her?”

Lobo struggled, nearly causing himself to fall into the pit, but with a grunt of exultation he managed to drag the wizard onto the floor/wall. Seamus eschewed the minstrel’s offered hand and easily leveraged himself out. His trousers were wet to the knees, indicative of how fast the ship was sinking. He was nearly bowled back into the pit when Roikza slammed into his chest and slithered around his shoulders, nuzzling his face with wet, foul smelling strokes of her forked tongue.

“I’m all right, love,” he said, giving her scales a brief scratch.

They stumbled through the passage, the portholes now round traps for their feet. Heavy smoke hung in the air, and all three coughed and sputtered until they at last broke out into moonlight.

“Oh dear,” said Lobo, staring at the other half of the ship rapidly drifting away from them. The ship was on its side, splintered in two and covered in fires that glowed eerily in the dark night.

“There must be a rowboat, a dingy, something,” said Seamus, holding Stella in his arms.

“There is,” said Lobo, pointing to a low profile on the water. A dozen sailors bustled heartily to put as much distance between themselves and the sinking ship as possible. The captain noticed their attention and turned his head away from them.

“Stinking coward!” shouted Seamus. “He’ll leave us to be swallowed up by the sea!”

“Or by a dragon,” said Lobo after a hard swallow.

“Aye,” said Seamus, his eye suddenly fearful. The dark sea surrounded their tiny island, a hungry gullet which threatened to swallow them utterly. There was no sign of the dragon, but the big man was little reassured. His head whipped around to face Lobo when the musician began singing softly.

“Is this really the time?” he said.

“How do you mean?” said Lobo, his limpid eyes full of hurt at being interrupted.

“The ship is sinking,” said Seamus “what’s left of it. The only thing that might save us from drowning is ending up in the dragon’s gullet, so if you’ll pardon me I’m not in the mood for fucking music right now!”

“Yes you are,” said Lobo, patting the big man on his bulging bicep. “Listen to yourself; There is no one who needs their spirit lifted more than you.”

“You’re impossible,” said Seamus with a sigh. The little wizard in his arms was growing heavy, so he found as flat of a surface as he could on the exposed keel of the ship and gently laid her down. “How can you be so calm?”

“You’re forgetting,” said Lobo with a smile “that when life seems jolly rotten, there’s something you’ve forgotten....and that’s to dance and smile and laugh and-”

“Shut up,” said Seamus through gritted teeth. Somehow his hand had ended up around the minstrel’s throat, the two fingers rasping like claws.

“Very well,” said Lobo, coughing a bit. “I only meant to say, things are not as dire as they seem. Why, when Stella awakes, I am sure she will be able to cast a spell that can bail us out of this predicament.”

“Predicament?” said Seamus. “Predicament? Seems more like a death trap to me. And I wouldn’t trust Stella’s magic so readily.”

“No?” said Lobo, his golden curls dancing merrily. “Did she not enchant a crudely forged spear so it could pierce the dragon’s rock like hide? Did she not track the dragon for you, all the way across the sea?”

“She knew it was coming back,” said Seamus, gently brushing a bit of Stella’s dark hair away from her eyes. “I didn’t listen to her.”

“I don’t think you should touch her like that,” said Lobo stiffly. Seamus glanced up at the minstrel, surprised by the gleam of jealousy in his eyes.

“Oh, ho,” said Seamus with a grin despite their grim situation “so you have designs upon the wizard yourself. Don’t worry, the last thing I need is to be burdened by a silly woman.”

“Last thing indeed,” said Lobo stiffly, seemingly more angry at his attempt to defuse the conflict. “I shall find a place to sing in private, so as to not disturb you from your manly thoughts.”

“Fine,” said Seamus, frowning as the strange man picked his way across the cleaved main mast. He braced his back against it, and though his lips moved the big man could not make out the words.

“Fine,” he said again. Roikza nuzzled his ear a bit, which brought him little comfort.