DRAGON WARRIOR

Two days later, they came at last to the end of the Spine. Arian settled on top of a cliff overlooking the ocean and rustled her wings as Aelwyn dismounted and studied the map. If the map was right, they were just due west of a port city called "Feinster". South of them was a group of five islands. Aelwyn frowned as he looked around, trying to decide which was the better way to go. He was still reticent to have people see Arian, so he nixed the idea of going near Feinster. The islands seemed a better idea, but there was just as much of a risk of being seen as flying over Feinster. Arian looked at him as he studied the map.

Little one, why are you so reluctant for others to see me? she asked. He glanced up at her.

Not everyone revers dragons, my friend. The last thing we want to do is cause a panic. Arian watched him as he looked up at the sun then back to the map.

I don't think we would, but your caution is not unwarranted. Aelwyn sighed as he looked carefully at the map. Arian gently rested her jaw on his shoulder, looking at the map with him.

Hmm. If we wish, we could fly north, close to the Spine and avoid Feinster by a good margin. Arian observed. Aelwyn gave a soft groan as he looked at her.

And head back the way we came? he asked incredulously, an eyebrow raised.

Or, we could fly southeast, she suggested. Aelwyn looked where she indicated, and frowned at the name there.

"The Burning Plains." ? Who comes up with these names? At any rate, there didn't appear to be any large villages or cities between them and there, so, why not? With a satisfied grunt, he rolled the map up and saddled up. With a mighty beat of her wings, they took off.

It was nearing dusk when they reached their destination. Aelwyn frowned at what he saw. The land looked blighted. Holes in the ground flared with fire every now and then. The river that ran through the area was milky white from the sulphur and ash. He could smell the scent of burning peat. Aelwyn coughed as they flew through the smoke and landed. With a bemused mutter, he dismounted. Arian looked around, as did he. He could see signs of many people having passed through the area. The more he looked, the more he was sure: There had been a great battle there. He stooped and picked up the rotting remains of an arrow from the ground. The feathers had rotted away, and the shaft was brittle, but the rusted arrowhead was still intact. He dropped it and gazed around warily. It looked like the battle had taken place long before they got there, but that didn't necessarily mean they were safe. Aelwyn drew out the short spear from his pack just to be safe as Arian padded up behind him.

This ground smells of blood . . . Aelwyn nodded as he gazed around.

"This foul place is well-named indeed . . ." he said in a low voice as he made camp.

As they sat by the fire, Aelwyn kept a strong grip on his spear, ready for anything. Arian could feel his tension.

What troubles you, little one? Aelwyn didn't reply, only ground the butt of the spear into the dirt. The light of the fire made the flecks of gold in his eyes sparkle and flash, like lightning.

She moved, curling around him and nuzzling him. Please tell me what troubles you, she asked again. Aelwyn gave a weary sigh as he looked at the battlefield that was periodically lit up by flares of the underground fire.

A feeling of unrest always hovers over battlegrounds. The anger, sorrow and regret of the dead linger long after the ringing of swords fades to silence. Aelwyn spoke as one who had seen war firsthand. His voice seemed more weary and tired, making him seem much older.

So, you're a warrior. It wasn't a question. Aelwyn said nothing, but looked down at the ground. She had always wondered, but it was one of the things Aelwyn never shared. She softly nuzzled him. Don't worry, my little warrior. I'll protect us both. She curled her tail around him. Sleep. I'll watch. Aelwyn looked up at her.

Thank you, my friend, but I'll find no sleep here, he said as he looked out at the burning, desolate plains that he had come to regard as cursed. This land is poison . . .

The next morning, they eagerly left at first light. Aelwyn breathed a sigh of relief at leaving the Burning Plains behind. They headed north, following the Jiet River towards Leona Lake. As they flew, Aelwyn busied himself with some of the spare scraps of leather that were leftover from making the saddle. Arian glanced back at him. The wind was whipping his auburn locks back as he braided two long strands of leather and tied the strands to a small patch of soft leather.

What are you doing, little one? He didn't look up as he replied.

Making a sling . . . he stated as he gave it an experimental twirl over his head. Feeling Arian's confusion, he showed her an image of the sling hurling a smooth stone and hitting a target of clay, shattering it. She snorted at the notion.

And what do you intend to do with it? Aelwyn smiled as he tucked it away under his belt.

Hunt, mostly. But we may be glad of it if we have to fight . . . Arian snorted again, a puff of smoke exiting her nostrils and flying back into Aelwyn's face. He coughed lightly.

You humans are certainly strange creatures . . . She felt a curious feeling from Aelwyn at her remark, but it was gone almost as quick. He grinned at her.

Until you've tried it, don't knock it. He chuckled. Arian's response was a quick spin. Aelwyn yelped as he came back up, his head spinning. Some people can't take a joke . . .

They landed by the shore of Leona Lake. As he jumped down, Aelwyn felt something strange. He looked around at the beautiful lake. There was a feeling of peacefulness and serenity. He carefully walked to the edge of the water. He suddenly had the sensation that this lake had seen dragons before. He shook his head as Arian padded up next to him.

How beautiful. He smiled as he looked at her.

Here. Let's get that saddle off and we can go for a swim. She looked at him, her lips curling back to reveal her teeth.

Good. Because you have been starting to smell. The amusement was clear in her voice.

Aelwyn paused briefly as he untied the saddle. He grinned before replying.

No, Madam, you smell. I stink. Arian looked back at him as the saddle hit the ground.

That's it, she said as she grabbed him with one of her glittering paws. Before he could say anything, she flew over the lake and dropped him into the water below with a yelp. She dove in a second later. He glowered at her as he floated in front of her. He grunted as he splashed her with water. She responded, using the tip of her tail. They spent the rest of the afternoon playing and having fun. Aelwyn felt like a child again, laughing and playing.

As Aelwyn wrung his hair out, he looked at his reflection in the water. His beard had grown quite a bit, but not as much as his hair. He reached back and deftly braided his auburn locks into a thick braid down his back. He rubbed the stubble on his chin as he stared at his reflection. He hardly recognized the face he saw. He saw Arian's shimmering face appear next to his in the water. You look fine, little one. He looked up at her before scratching his cheek.

I'm not a vain person, but men in my lands don't wear beards . . . he said as he stood.

Besides, the itch of it is starting to bother me, he stated as he shook his head. He would have to see about trading for or buying a razor at the next village he could.

That evening, Arian sat with a deer she had killed, while Aelwyn had used the sling to kill a few rabbits. Arian had to admit, his aim was very good. Out of five shots, only one missed, and that was not his fault. Arian had noticed that, whenever he killed something, he would say a short prayer before taking the animal. He always did this without exception. Presently, he was sitting across from her, honing the edge of the spear on a stone. He always was fascinating. He had a certain grace to him that she instinctively knew was unusual among humans. He looked at the spear, and, satisfied with its sharpness, put it away. A few times, he had used it to kill deer when they were in the Spine. This further showed his skills as a warrior, as he rarely missed.

The next day, they flew over Leona Lake, high up, so they could avoid detection. To the east, they could see a very large city; Dras-Leona. Aelwyn felt a sense of unease from the city, as did Arian. They continued north until they left the lake and found themselves between the Toark River and the Spine. As they flew, Aelwyn noticed smoke from a small village and smiled.

Let's land. I'll see about getting supplies and you can hunt in the Spine. Arian snorted, not liking to have to be away from Aelwyn.

Very well. I'll see you this evening, she relented. Aelwyn watched as she disappeared over the trees before he turned and headed for the village. Once again, he was careful to keep his torc and sword hidden under his cloak. As he approached, he noticed that windows were shut, and he didn't see people about. That wasn't a good sign. He tensed as he entered the village. His eyes darted around, looking for any sign that something was amiss. His breath halted when he heard someone whisper. He looked around. He thought, for one instant, that he saw someone peek out between some shutters. As he walked, he heard a door creak. He looked up and an old woman was looking at him through a door that was open a crack.

"Horris! Get yourself here! It's not one of them!" she shouted back into the house. Quickly, a man with a scar over his right eye joined her at the door. They both looked frightened, but not of him.

"What are you doing, lad?! Get in here!" the man hissed. They quickly ushered him inside and closed and bolted the door. He looked around and saw what seemed to be the whole village crowded into what appeared to be an inn. Lanterns and candles lit the dim room, revealing scared faces. The scarred man, Horris, waved to the people. "It's all right! Just a traveler!" The grouped sighed in relief. Aelwyn looked at him.

"I beg your pardon, sir, but may I ask what is going on around here?" asked the confused youth. The old woman groaned.

"Bandits, young man. They come back every year on the same day," she stated as she shuffled past. He turned and looked at the frightened villagers. Horris pulled out a chair.

"Here. Have a seat." Aelwyn took the seat with gratitude. One of the villagers, a thin man who limped, wrung his hands as he approached.

"You wouldn't happen to be a messenger from Queen Nasuada, would you?" Aelwyn blinked before shaking his head. The villagers sighed. A taller man who looked rather on the portly side looked at him.

"So, where you from?" he asked. Aelwyn frowned slightly.

"From up north," he replied. Some of the villagers' faces lit up.

"From Palancar Valley?" someone asked, sounding hopeful. Aelwyn sighed and shook his head. They sighed. Aelwyn looked around at the gathered people.

"So, these brigands return every year and steal from you?" he asked. A ragged man growled and spat.

"Worse than that! They pillage! They burn! They murder! Filthy dogs!" Aelwyn frowned deeper hearing this. He thought to ask them why nobody had put a stop to it, but held his tongue. He already knew the answer. Help was either too far away, or refused to help. He reached out with his mind to Arian, but she was too far away. As he thought, he heard the villagers talking.

"I wish we had some troops somewhere around. Or at least somebody who knows how to fight!" said one.

"We need a good trap for the bums!" said another.

"What we really need is a Rider!" one shouted.

"Here, here!" agreed another. Aelwyn raised an eyebrow at that. They were right, though. A good rider on a swift mount could relay a message to someone quick, provided he wasn't cut down and the message recipients would agree to do something. Aelwyn looked up as Horris brought him some water.

"Tell me, how many of them are there?" he asked. Horris frowned.

"A good two dozen of the bastards!" the scarred man replied. Aelwyn furrowed his brows as he thought. The conversation around him was drowned out as he carefully went over everything in his head. He nodded as he stood up.

"I'll fight them," he said. The room fell deathly silent, all eyes riveted to him. One man dropped his mug of beer in shock.

"Are you crazy?!" shouted a man. Aelwyn looked at him. Horris looked pale as he tottered up to him.

"Lad, did you not hear when I said there's two dozen of them? Not to offend you, but do you know how many a dozen is?" Horris asked. Aelwyn held his gaze.

"Twelve, meaning twenty-four in all," Aelwyn replied. Villagers began to murmur. One of the villagers slammed his mug down on his table.

"That's suicide, boy!" he declared. Aelwyn crossed his arms.

"Not to me it's not. If you'll help me, I'll help you," he stated.

"Aha! So that's it! Just what do you want? Money? We don't have any!" said an angry many from where he sat. Aelwyn shook his head.

"Hardly. The only things I need are some dried meat, water and a razor and a mirror. And you can pay me with them when I've succeeded." The startled villagers began talking with each other. Horris smiled gently at Aelwyn.

"We appreciate your courage lad, but what can you do? You're not a warrior." Aelwyn chuckled.

"Actually, I am," he said, opening his cloak and showing his short sword. The villagers gasped. He reached back and pulled out the spear. He looked around at them as he strode to the middle of the inn. "If you get me what I need, I will fight and fight like nothing you've ever seen! You have my word I will not fail!" They stared at him in awed silence for what seemed an eternity. At last, someone spoke up.

"What do you need?" asked a stout man with a round face and a beard. Aelwyn smiled at him.

"First, I need a new shaft for this spear. Second, I need any spare leather you have and some good hard smooth river rocks . . ."

XXX

The sound of hooves echoed through the small valley as the twenty-four horses thundered along at a fast pace. The riders all wore hooded cloaks of various colors. They all wore savage grins as they headed for the village as the cold mist of dawn still clung to the ground. The trees and rocks of the Spine sped past in a blur as they grew ever closer to their goal.

"Hope those spineless whelps have something worth our while this year!" yelled one.

"Yeah! Some nice soft girls and some good mead!" laughed another. One with short blonde hair and rotting teeth grinned at their leader.

"Hey, Avgarr, this looks like it's gonna be a good day!" the brigand yelled. Avgarr grinned as they rode.

As they rode, one of the men gasped and fell off his horse, tumbling in the dust. Avgarr yelled out and they wheeled around and turned to help their fallen comrade. They stopped short of the fallen man. One of them dismounted.

"Well?" Avgarr growled. One of the mounted men jeered.

"Looks like old Olaf had a little too much to drink last night!" They laughed at that. The kneeling man looked Olaf's body over and gasped. He looked back, alarmed.

"He wasn't killed by the fall! He was-" The man never finished, as something whizzed through the air and hit him in the side of the head, spraying blood on his stunned and horrified fellows. They recoiled and looked around, scanning for the source of the lethal projectile. They saw nothing but the plains and the trees. They looked back and could see the cause of both the mens' demise: A smooth stone no bigger than an egg. Both men had been hit with unerring aim in the temple. Suddenly, another man fell from his horse. As they looked up, another was felled by a stone that hit him in the eye. The startled bandits spurred their horses as they rode away in an attempt to escape from the barrage of stones. Another man fell from his horse, something tangled around his neck as he tumbled into the dust. The bandits doubled their efforts as they fled. The rotten-mouthed blonde looked at Avgarr in shock.

"Just what in blazes was that?!" he yelled. Avgarr growled with anger as they rode towards the village.

"I don't know, but I bet those worthless villagers are behind it!" he hissed.

They finally came to the ford they used to cross the Toark River and reined in their horses. Standing on the other side was a lone figure. They blinked in confusion and bewilderment. As they drew closer, they could see it was a young man. He was dressed in a light brown tunic and brown breeches. His cloak was a dark gray and fluttered in the breeze, as did his auburn hair. His smooth face was very young and pale. He was leaning on a spear, almost idly. Leaning against his leg was a round shield. The shield was blue with red spirals on its face. The youth was looking towards the east, not seeming to pay them any mind. One of the men approached.

"Who are you?!" he called. The youth seemed oblivious to them. Another bandit repeated the call, and still silence followed. The men growled and spurred their horses forward. No sooner did one of them step into the river, than the young man finally spoke.

"You shall not pass here," the youth declared. The bandits glared at him.

"What did you say, you little brat?!" one of the men raged. The youth was unaffected as he replied.

"I shall give you one, and only one chance to leave. And never return." The bandits howled with anger and gnashed their teeth. Avgarr frowned at the youth.

"Go back to your mother, boy!" Avgarr shouted. The men jeered at the youth, who just regarded them. A slight smiled tugged at his lips as he spoke.

"Very well, then. I have warned you. I'll leave the choice of weapons up to you . . ." said the youth as he took up his shield and waded into the ford, not afraid in the slightest. The young man stopped in the middle of the ford and stood, spear in hand. "You can attack me at once if you like, or do you have the courage to face me one at a time?" If the bandits were angry before, now they were furious. One of the men dismounted and waded into the ford, drawing his sword as he did.

"You little scut!" the bandit growled as he stalked towards the calm youth.

"So, we fight with swords?" the youth asked. The bandit's face contorted with rage as he raised his sword.

"We fight with anything, you little puke!" In the next instant, the spear moved, almost faster than they could see. In one graceful, flowing movement, the spear severed the bandit's hand and slashed through his ribs and cleaved his heart in two. The youth hadn't even raised his shield. The look on the face of the bandit was one of complete disbelief as he fell into the water.

The bandits on shore roared with anger. One brought up his own spear as he jumped down from his horse and charged, yelling as loud as he could. The youth stepped back and knocked the man's feet out from under him with a sweep of the butt of the spear. The man fell backwards, disappearing under the water.

The youth thrust his spear into the water and withdrew it. The appearance of blood in the water told everyone the fate of the second bandit. The bandits yelled louder as they dismounted and drew their weapons. This time, four men came. Two were armed with spears, two with swords. The youth gave the most subtle leer at them. They surrounded him on all four sides. One of the spearmen lunged, only for the youth to deflect the blow with his shield and retaliate with a thrust of his own spear. The sharp spearhead found its target in the man's throat. The youth pulled sideways, cutting the man's neck open. The young warrior spun, holding the spear at the very end, the spearhead flying through the air in a great arc. One of the swordsmen lost his head when he failed to duck quick enough. The other two men just barely avoided the blow. On shore, Avgarr growled at the display.

"What are you idiots doing?!" he yelled. As the youth twirled his spear and killed the second spearman with a cut to the neck, the rest of the bandits attacked en masse. They crowded in with spears, swords and clubs. Some were on foot, some on horseback. They surrounded the youth, who never once looked worried. A swordsman lunged. The youth smashed the swordsman with his shield, knocking his foe back before he swept his spear down and cut the man's legs out from under him. Two spearmen attacked at once, thrusting at the youth's head.

The young warrior ducked and leaped upwards, his spear twirling as he killed four enemies with his dancing spearhead. He landed on top of another bandit's shield, knocking the man down as he thrust his spear under the man's collarbone into his heart. As the rest lunged, he leaped again, curling into a ball and spinning in a deft somersault, spear gripped at the butt. The spinning, slashing blade killed two more men as the ford filled with blood and bodies. One bandit managed to grab the youth's spear and trap it. The other bandits lunged with every weapon they had. The youth shoved the shaft of his spear into the man's chest hard and leaped backward over the charging bandits, who only succeeded in running their own comrade through. The warrior landed behind them. One of the bandits stopped as if he had been struck. A shining white oval was in the middle of the warrior's right palm. The man paled as he yelled.

"He's a Rider!" the bandit screamed. The whole group stopped and stared at the warrior. They only saw the mark for a brief moment before he drew his short sword. As fast as they could, the group broke and fled. The warrior looked around, surprised at their actions as they fled. He quickly picked up his spear and gave chase. The bandits were frantic as they whipped and spurred their horses to go as fast as they could. They glanced back at the warrior running after them. A deafening roar brought their attention to the front, just in time to see the great, silver dragon sweep down on them, jaws spread wide as it roared. They yelled as the dragon swept through them, knocking them over and down. No sooner had the dragon landed, than it turned back and attacked viciously. One bandit was torn in half by the dagger-like teeth, two were smashed by the muscular tail and another was slashed by the claws.

As Avgarr tried to rise, a spear flew and impaled the man in front of him. The leader of the bandits looked up and saw the warrior charging at him, sword drawn and held aloft. Avgarr rose and drew his sword, picking up a fallen shield as the youth charged and collided with bone-jarring force. Before Avgarr could react, the youth leaped up, planted a foot on his shield, and leaped over his head in a somersault, sword flashing. The young warrior landed behind Avgarr and looked back as the headless corpse staggered before falling over.

With a sigh, Aelwyn looked around at the carnage. Arian dropped what was left of one of the bandits and looked at him.

Are you hurt, little one? Aelwyn shook his head as she approached. She looked back at the ford and the bodies that floated there. She looked back at him and growled in satisfaction.

Very impressive. Aelwyn looked away as he wiped the blood from his sword. They both were covered in blood, as was the ground. He huffed as he retrieved his spear.

You're the one who was impressive, Aelwyn stated as he straightened and turned back towards the river to wash the blood off.

A short time later, Aelwyn returned to the village, and not empty-handed, either. Behind the horse he rode was twenty-three fine horses. Some were a little bruised or frightened, but otherwise they were fine. The village cheered when they saw him. He couldn't help smiling at the happiness in the villagers' faces. Horris and his wife, Greta, watched as Aelwyn rode up, leading the bandits' horses. Horris laughed at the sight.

"Ah, we owe you greatly, lad!" Aelwyn dismounted and gave the reins to Horris.

"Not at all," said Aelwyn as the villagers cheered. Greta handed Aelwyn his pack.

"Here. We filled it with as much as we could. There's spare clothes and some wine as well as what you asked for." she said as he took the pack. He smiled gratefully.

"Thank you. You're very kind." A villager slapped the humble warrior on the back.

"Kid, you did great! We all owe you big! How about you stay? There's quite a few girls here that would love to have you as a husband!" the bearded man said, a huge grin adorning his face. Aelwyn chuckled weakly as he tried to skirt his way out.

"Thank you for the offer, but I'm in the middle of my travels and I have to be going." There was quite a few disappointed groans at this. With this, he turned and left the village. The villagers reluctantly returned to their homes. However, one child, a little girl, watched as Aelwyn walked to out onto the plain as a huge silver dragon swooped down. He climbed up and onto the dragon's back before it took off once again. The little girl ran back to the village, eyes wide as she yelled.

"Daddy! Daddy! He's a Rider, Daddy!" she yelled as he ran back.