Dragon Master (7 page)

What was I doing here?

My mother stood quietly in the doorway and watched me, as if unsure whether she was dreaming.

I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming. I wasn’t sure of anything.

My mother spoke. “Are you awake?” It was a strange question to ask, I thought, and it seemed to be a genuine inquiry and not a strange rhetorical statement.

I didn’t trust my voice just yet, so I grimaced and nodded my head, just a little. She took in a deep, sudden breath before stepping backward to disappear back into the next room. The kitchen, I remembered. The smell of celeryroot was growing stronger and I was starting to pick out other smells as well, smells long forgotten, smells of gingercorn and baswella. My mother reentered the room, gently carrying a large stone bowl with two hands. It was filled to its rim with broth, but my mother’s steady grip ensured that no drops spilled out of it. She held the bowl up to my lips and the full intensity of the mixture’s aroma caused my head to throb and my eyes to water. After a moment, I felt all of my muscles relaxing, like settling into a warm bath after a complete day of hard training. I reveled in the sensation for a full minute before taking a sip of the brew. It was neither warm nor cool, but the taste of it ran bitter through me. My lips puckered involuntarily and my mother used the opportunity to tip the bowl slightly and pour more down my throat. She was still watching me silently. Then she held out the bowl and waited for me to take it before starting back out of the room.

“Mom,” I said, and she stopped without turning to face me. “Thank you.” A part of me wanted to start asking questions, and I knew I had a hundred or more to ask her, but none of them felt very important at that moment and I was suddenly craving more of the mixture. I brought the bowl to my mouth and drank deeply as my mother quietly stepped out of the room.

***

After half an hour, I’d finished the brew and was feeling much more limber, but I still didn’t trust myself to rise out of the recliner. I felt indentations on my skin and figured that I’d been laying in that recliner for a long time. Days, even, or maybe more. I didn’t want to upset my stomach and upchuck all that I’d drank, soiling my mother’s rug, so I just sat back and tried to figure out what had happened. I remembered the festival, the magic log ride, Daija. I remembered the tapestry and the old woman, and training, and study hall, and then … what had happened next? I’d been exploring the study. No, I’d come back to the desk. The parchment was gone. Then I felt sick and I fell. And now I was home? None of it made any sense.

I tried calling for my mother, and then my father. The only reply I got was from a songbird, perched outside a window. The small green bird’s radiant feathers were giving off a silver glimmer in the light of late afternoon. Beyond, I saw golden buds beginning to sprout on vines that were wrapped around plain cedar trellises in my mother’s garden. So it was Late Stone then, or even Coming Flame. I did some math in my head and realized that meant I must have been out cold for at least five or six weeks. Five or six weeks! I was going to be so behind in my training. I wondered if that was why I was at home, and not cooped up with the apothecary in the great keep. Had I been expelled from the academy because I’d missed too much?

I never imagined a situation where I’d just be allowed to return home. A failed Stone Soul, but without having to go into battle with a dragon at all. I could live a normal life, I could learn a profession, maybe woodworking from my father. Hang up my sword forever and let the likes of Walker and Bayrd shoulder that burden. But now that wasn’t what I wanted. I was finally ready to face my destiny, to train hard and have the best shot I could have when facing a dragon, and I’d missed out on all this time. Could I really just walk away from it all? I could find Daija, ask her to start a new life with me. That was something. If she’d even have me.

I thought about Boe, and wondered if he’d written to me. I wondered what he’d written to Daija, if she was worried about me. I thought that maybe she might even be traveling here to help watch over me, or could maybe already be here in the house unaware that I was awake. I called out, “Daija!” and then I heard a door swing open and then rapid, heavy footsteps approaching. I smiled and sat upright, not wanting to give the impression of an invalid, no longer worrying about keeping the brew down. It was a mistake, I didn’t keep the brew down. I was hunched forward, spitting dry tendrils of celeryroot onto my mother’s rug when the footsteps entered the room. I wiped my mouth and looked up, slowly.

It was my father. He took a look at me, then looked down at the rug. He didn’t say anything at first, just walked over to me and lifted me from the recliner, wrapping his thick arms around me in an enveloping embrace.

“My son,” he said.

I pushed free of the hug and smiled humbly up at him. I found that I could keep my balance as long as I concentrated on staying upright. I tried to think of a way to ask my father what would happen next, what was expected of me. It was difficult to put together the words.

“We need to get you back to your training.”

That answered that.

My father and I spent some time talking on the several day journey back to the Rægena academy. That is, we didn’t talk a whole lot, but you can end up still saying a whole lot over the course of several days if you add it all together. He told me that the academy waited three weeks to write to them about my condition, and that as soon as they’d heard he had ridden to the academy and brought me back home with him, against the Rector’s strict wishes. He said that my mother believed she could help me recover faster and better than they could. It was hard to argue with her results; now that I’d had some time for my head to clear and my muscles to wake up, I did feel better than I had in a long time.

I told my father about the festival and details about the fight that I’d won, and how I was the only Stone Soul to beat one of the challengers from the Tournament. He congratulated me, but warned me not to revel too much in smaller victories, that it was the big challenges in life that must be overcome at all costs, not the individual skirmishes. I supposed I understood what he meant. I wanted to tell him about Daija, I wanted to ask his advice, to know how he and my mother had started out, but I didn’t ever feel it was the right time to ask those kinds of questions. We talked about mother’s garden and her experiments with alchemic brews. We talked about his work; he was helping to reinforce some of the battlements around Helmsbridge in preparation for the coming Dragonbirths.

By the time we arrived back at the academy, I felt fully refreshed and ready to slay a dragon or two.

***

“Caedan!”

Boe was the first to see me as I finally arrived at the training grounds after saying my goodbyes to my father at the perimeter. I’d been directed to suit up and join my class, but I hadn’t even reached the barracks when I saw Boe’s familiar red locks bounding toward me. We embraced and I could feel a change in Boe, like it had been a very long time since I’d seen him and he’d spent that whole time doing nothing but training furiously. It turned out that was almost exactly what had been happening. Commander Hawk had moved on from our class to train the younger recruits while we were assigned a new instructor. Master Walker Ebondell.

“He’s insane,” Boe said, which, coming from him, was saying something. “You’re going to have a hard time keeping up with things at first.”

It was hard not to take that personally. I forced a smile and just said, “You’ll see.”

He shrugged at me and then changed the subject, saying, “You arrived just in time, we’re going to be splitting into our dragon quest teams today. We’ll be having skirmishes and the winners will get to choose someone to be on their team.” Teams were groups of five, and we’d spent some time trying to guess how Hawk would assign them. It turned out that he wasn’t even going to have anything to do with it.

“You’ll want to warm up,” Boe warned me as he jogged off to the training grounds, presumably to follow his own advice. I hurried to the barracks to get my armor on.

***

Master Walker explained the rules briefly, and I got the impression it was mostly for my benefit. We’d each be assigned an opponent and the first to win three matches would be declared the winner and permitted to choose another Stone Soul to join their dragon quest team. For my skirmishes, I was assigned to spar with Warley. He had a determination in his piercing black eyes that I was sure I’d never seen in him before. In truth, everyone in the class seemed to have a certain new ferocity and drive. I hadn’t spent any time training with Master Walker, but I was already beginning to fear him. I hoped I would have an advantage because I was well rested, but I was also out of practice while it looked like everyone else had some new tricks and techniques. In all, it seemed like it would be a fair fight.

Boe was assigned to spar with Irvin. I didn’t much like Boe’s odds, even though it was obvious that he’d improved in the time I was gone. I knew Irvin didn’t really like Boe’s constant enthusiasm and that he’d see this as a chance to show up Boe as well the chance to choose a team member. But I didn’t have any time to focus on Boe’s match. I had to figure out what to do about Warley.

I decided not to let Warley have time to size me up and realize how well rested I was, or how rusty I felt. The moment the first round began, I sprung forward and went for a decisive blow. He fought off my attack, but he was clearly caught off guard and I pressed my advantage with two more relentless strikes. I felt a thrill as my practice sword broke though his defenses and came into contact with his neck. Victory. Warley stumbled backward and fell on his butt, and I offered him my hand to help him up. He accepted it, and nodded at me in thanks. I smiled and shrugged at him. I’d tried a risky strategy and it had paid off, that was all.

I looked around and saw that I was the first to win any of the rounds. Everyone seemed to have a renewed focus on defense, and there were almost no bold attacks or indeed any of the moves that Commander Hawk had taught us. I watched Boe’s match, and smiled when I saw him perfectly execute a double feint and then slice his sword upward to strike at Irvin. I was surprised when Irvin lunged backward suddenly and brought his own sword around and hit Boe in the back, taking the victory. That was a new move. I checked and Warley wasn’t watching any of the other matches, just breathing heavily, lost in thought.

When our second round began, I considered taking the same approach as the first, then decided against it. Warley parried my first exploratory blow so expertly that I would have surely lost footing if I’d had anything other than retreat in mind. So that worked out for me. We circled each other and I looked into the burning coal of his eyes and saw that he was watching only my sword. I waved my blade around in the air and watched him; his eyes darted around following it as he took two steps further away from me, unsure what I was doing. Well, I could always confuse him further. I tossed my sword forward and up into the air, then I ran forward and leapt up to grab the sword and bring it down on him, hoping to have enough force behind the move to break his defenses and strike another quick victory. Not my best idea ever. I wasn’t able to get a proper grip on the sword’s hilt and he easily blocked the blow and sent my sword flying out of my grasp. In an instant he tagged me on my backside and I had lost the round.

We traded two more rounds; I took the next and then he took the round after that one. Neither match was especially close. I was able to simply overwhelm Warley with a strength move in our third match but I never came close to getting a winning blow in our fourth. He simply let me wear myself down with attack after attack, easily defending each until I was too exhausted to properly block one of his own attacks. I was feeling pretty down, but I tried to keep in mind what my father said about winning big challenges. Still, after that fourth round I was definitely winded. I was hoping that the other fourth round matches would go on for a while, giving me a chance to rest or at least fully catch my breath, but there was only one match still going on and one of the Stone Souls looked like he was moments away from simply collapsing. Sure enough, he was too slow trying to dodge the next attack and was eliminated. I looked to Boe as I leaned forward, panting, and Boe shook his head at me. He’d lost and been eliminated. Gable was over by Bayrd, jumping up excitedly and slapping him on the back and I could guess that even if Gable had lost, Bayrd had won.

“Jade and Elias, to the center of the ring. Now please.” Master Walker didn’t bark our names as Commander Hawk would have. He was firm, but quiet. I had to strain to hear his words over the sounds of my own hoarse breathing, but I could clearly identify his tone as one of pure authority. I waited to hear who else had a fifth match, but to my surprise none of the other match-ups had gone a full five rounds. So it was just me and Warley.

Looking at Master Walker I could see that I wasn’t going to be able to stall for time, so I raised my sword and stood up straight, making sure I was ready when the round began. Warley did the same. Everyone else formed a wide circle around us, hoping for a good fight. Boe saluted me and I nodded at him. Out of habit, I looked around to see if anyone else was watching, maybe a certain one of Walker’s wives. I didn’t see anyone. That was just as well, it had been nearly two months since I’d seen Kamelia, and I’d never seen her when Walker was around, didn’t know if she acted differently in his presence. I shook my head to clear it of these thoughts. Just in time to see the Dragon Master bring his outstretched arm down sharply.

“Begin.”

This time, Warley surprised me by charging forward, swinging his sword down at me in a huge arc. I raised my sword instinctively to defend myself, but I knew I didn’t have the proper footing to deflect this blow. I braced myself. Warley snapped his wrists back up and stepped away, not committing to the attack. Just a feint, then. I got lucky. And Warley was just guessing, not properly reading me like he was supposed to. Commander Hawk had told us that we were training to kill dragons, yes, but since we didn’t have any dragons around to spar against we would have to settle for each other. We were teaching our bodies how to react, how to read situations, how to control our strength and momentum to attack and defend. I felt then that I had to win this match; not only for myself and for Boe, but also to somehow defend Commander Hawk. Everyone else, it seemed, had already forgotten our old commander. I impulsively felt a strange connection to him, like I was the last hope to justify everything we’d spent the past five years of our lives learning and practicing.