Sea Dragon (Dragon Knights Book 9) Page 7

  Seth caught Gowan’s eye, the mood having turned serious. “Then I vow to teach you all I know of dragon craft so that someday in the far future, when you have grown old, you can come back to this Lair and retire to go fishing and watch the waves roll onto the shore.”

  They both knew he meant that as a good fate—where neither Gowan nor Genlitha was killed in battle.

  Gowan nodded with respect. “And I vow to teach you all I can in the time we have together, starting with what to look for in a blade…even a wooden one.”

  Gowan threw one of the practice swords to Seth and then commenced the lesson. He showed Seth how to check for balance and the trueness of the blade, what weight would be right for his size and ability and so forth. It was an eye-opening hour of verbal instruction that Seth hadn’t expected before they ever started swinging the wooden swords.

  Even then, Gowan had him go through his paces alone. They weren’t fighting against each other at all. Gowan taught Seth a dance of sorts. It was a series of movements with the blade, taking it through a variety of slashes, strikes and even blocks. He made Seth repeat the movements in a specific order, over and over, until he knew it by heart. Then he tasked Seth with practicing that series of movements whenever he could over the next days, until they met again.

  They set up a schedule of sorts, working around both of their schedules, so they could trade knowledge on a more or less steady basis. Seth’s head was full of the lesson he’d just received as he left, and he was already looking forward to two days hence, when they would do it again.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Livia was fishing again, scanning the skies for Hrardorr. She’d been fishing more and more of late, keeping the dragon company. Her heart went out to him. He seemed so lonely.

  But he was better when he was in the water. She just knew it. She may not have access to him on land, but he was always melancholy until he had swum a bit and caught something tasty to nibble on. Usually a shark, but occasionally another sort of predator, or even an entire school of fish.

  He only hunted the smaller fish on days when the town’s fishing fleet was elsewhere. He was wise enough not to anger the fishermen by eating their catch right in front of them.

  Suddenly, there was a disturbance in the water off the port side of her boat. A second later, Hrardorr’s head broke the surface, followed by the rest of him. He’d snuck up on her.

  “Good morning, Sir Hrardorr,” she said with a grin. She couldn’t help but be charmed by his expression. “You just took ten years off my life with your stealthy ways,” she declared, laughing out loud so he would know that she was teasing him.

  Little curls of smoke wafted upward from his nostrils. Dragonish amusement. He couldn’t quite smile—not with all those teeth—but his expression came as close as it could to joy, and it made her heart feel lighter.

  “I am practicing,” he declared.

  “Practicing for what?”

  “Good question.” He seemed to sigh, a billow of hot air wafting into her sail, driving her little boat slightly away from him.

  “Oy,” she called out, working to lower the sail. “Give me a minute to put the sail down before you start blowing me all over the place.”

  “Apologies.” He moved his head about, as if looking for her.

  It was then that she realized he couldn’t see above water. He couldn’t actually see in the water, for that matter, but his other senses compensated to let him know, with incredible accuracy, what was around him under the waves. Up here, in the air, he was still blind. That thought made her sad, and sorry that she’d drawn attention to his disability.

  “No problem, but if you’ll paddle about three ship lengths to your left, you’ll find me again. I’ve lowered the sail, so no danger of setting me off again.” She tried to inject calm competence into her voice.

  “Again, my apologies, mistress. I did not know your vessel was powered by sail. I will be more careful in future.”

  “Oh, so you thought maybe I had a crew of scantily clad slave boys in the hold ready to row me wherever I wish to go?” She tried for a joke, already knowing that nothing she could say would truly shock the dragon.

  “In a vessel so small, they would have to be very tiny,” he observed wryly.

  “Alas, slavery is properly illegal in this land. Good thing I don’t have a taste for slave boys, then, I suppose.” She sighed wistfully, prolonging the gag. “Of course, some scantily clad men wouldn’t be bad to have around, if they were fit and easy on the eyes.”

  “You females are all the same, no matter the species,” Hrardorr complained. “You just want males to see to your whims and look decorative.”

  “Funny. That’s what I thought most males wanted in their females. Sadly, all my suitors have been gravely disappointed in me on that score.” She laughed, but even she could hear the slight bitterness in her tone.

  “Why aren’t you already mated, Livia?” Hrardorr asked suddenly, a hint of paternal concern in his voice she never would have expected from the dragon.

  “I guess I haven’t found the right man yet,” she admitted. “Though I have tried a few on for size.” She laughed, having admitted something to the dragon that she never would have said aloud to anyone else. Hrardorr was good at keeping her confidences. “What about you? Where is your dragoness?”

  It was a good thing she had lowered the sail because Hrardorr sighed again. “There was a pretty young dragoness when I was just starting out, but we both had some growing to do before we could act on our attraction. I fear she is lost to me now that I am…useless.”

  Another sigh, wafting cinnamon-scented hot air over her. It was kind of pleasant, though the emotion he was expressing gave her pause. Her heart broke on a nearly daily basis for Hrardorr.

  “Never say that again. You are not useless. Ask any fisherman in this harbor. In the short time you have been fishing here, you’ve made this place safer for everyone, and much more productive. Poor families can feed their children because of you, where before they would have subsisted on scraps. You’ve made an impact here that you don’t even realize.”

  Hrardorr’s sightless eyes narrowed in thought, but he said nothing.

  “Now, tell me about your dragoness. I bet she was very beautiful,” Livia coaxed, hoping to lighten the subject.

  “She was. She is,” he corrected himself. “She’s here, in fact, but I’ve been avoiding her. I don’t want Genlitha to see me as I am…now.”

  “Oh, I’ve seen her. Sky blue and gray. She fades into the sky and flies like a dream,” Livia enthused, ignoring, for the moment, Hrardorr’s admission that he’d been hiding from the dragoness. “I met her knight too. Gowan is his name. In fact, I have a date with him on the weekend.”

  “Do tell,” Hrardorr said, sounding both surprised and impressed. “I didn’t know Sir Gowan had come down to the town at all, much less had time to make a date with the prettiest girl in it.”

  “You’re a charmer, Sir Hrardorr,” she replied in a teasing tone, liking the way he had become so familiar with her over the past days. They were friends now, she thought. This giant blind dragon was more her friend than anyone she could remember in her life. Now wasn’t that a surprising thought?

  “Apparently so is Sir Gowan, if he got you to agree to go out with him so quickly.”

  “Alas, you’re right. He is very charming. The youngest son of a northern lord, if such things matter to you. He has very nice manners, but he is not snobbish, which I like very much. He is also handsome and someone I wouldn’t mind seeing in the aforementioned scanty slave boy attire.” She knew she was blushing, but Hrardorr couldn’t see it. He could probably sense it, though. He was very perceptive. “Of course, he’s no boy. The man has muscles on top of his muscles, and he’s tall. Very, very tall. And a warrior, I have no doubt. He holds himself as if nothing could ever harm him—as if arrows wouldn’t dare touch him, but merely bounce off.”

  She laughed at her own description, but Hrardorr had grown q
uieter.

  “Arrows don’t bounce,” he said softly in her mind.

  “Oh, Hrardorr. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s all right.” He sighed yet again. It seemed to be a day full of sighs. “I miss my last knight. His name was Theo. He was a good lad, but he didn’t stand much of a chance in that last battle. Neither did I. We both knew the chance of our survival was minimal, but we had no choice.”

  “Why was there no choice?” she asked quietly. Respectfully. She wouldn’t push too much, but she knew he needed to talk this out with someone. Anyone. She hoped he would allow it to be her.

  “A town full of innocent people were pinned down by skiths and a battalion of enemy troops. We were alone on patrol when we saw it. There was no time to waste. We sent word back to the Lair, but knew they would not arrive in time. We talked it over for just a few seconds, but we both knew what we had to do. I dove for the skiths while Theo hung on for dear life. He was an archer, and he was able to get off a number of kill shots at the enemy commanders during my flame runs. Eventually, though, the enemy archers were all focused on him. Their bolts bounced off my scales for the most part—all except for the special ones that were tipped in diamond. I got sliced up pretty bad, and it affected my flying. And then, Theo got hit multiple times, and we both tumbled to the ground. We still fought on the ground, but there were too many skiths. I’d crash-landed in the midst of them. I flamed and flamed until my flame gave out and their acid hit me over and over…”

  Livia wished she could reach out and hug him. Tears flowed down her face at his words. Tears for the loss he had suffered and the noble sacrifice he had made.

  “I felt Theo die, and then, I lost consciousness. They told me later that it was only seconds later that help arrived from the Lair. A whole wing of fighters took out the remaining skiths, and the knights and dragons of the Border Lair pushed the enemy back, saving the town.”

  “You saved the town, Hrardorr,” she said, knowing he could probably hear the tears in her voice. “You and Sir Theo, stars bless his soul.”

  “He was a selfless boy who would have grown into a great knight, had he been given the chance,” Hrardorr agreed.

  “He already was a great knight,” she insisted. “And he should be remembered for his heroic deeds and willingness to put himself in the path of danger for the sake of innocents.”

  “The townsfolk honored his name and created a shrine where he is buried. They promised me they would remember him and offer prayers to thank him for his sacrifice.”

  Was it possible for dragons to cry? If so, Livia believed Hrardorr would be weeping right along with her. Regardless, she wept for him. And for poor Theo.

  “They sound like good people, worthy of your sacrifice,” she said softly, wiping her eyes and nose on a hankie.

  “There was a monastery at the heart of the town. The monks there took me in and allowed me to stay while I was healing. My wings were so torn up I couldn’t fly. It took a month or more before I was able to get myself back to the Lair. But I couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t face the rooms where Theo and I had once lived. I chose to come here because I knew I couldn’t be left on my own, as I wished. I need help now. Out of the water, I am useless.”

  “I told you not to say that,” she chastised him in a weak voice.

  “It is the truth. I can’t even care for myself properly. Seth has to check on me every night.”

  “Seth? The healer’s apprentice from the Lair?” she asked, her interest piqued.

  “You know him?” Hrardorr asked.

  “He comes to trade occasionally for the rare herbs my father’s ships bring in. He grew up here, so I saw him sometimes. I always wished he’d notice me, but he never did.” She figured Hrardorr deserved to know another of her deepest secrets, since he’d been so forthcoming with his own today.

  “I find it impossible to believe that he never noticed you. He seems like a competent young man. No sign of brain damage or stupidity.”

  She laughed at Hrardorr’s humor. “He could have any girl he wants. Contrary to your high opinion of me, I am plain by most standards. I have a lot of money, which makes me a target for the less scrupulous men in town. And when my father is in residence, he makes me live like a nun. No dating. No male friends. No fun at all. He scared off most of the boys when I was younger. Only now, since my mother died and he’s away so much, have I been able to spread my wings a bit, much to my housekeeper’s shock. I pay her extra to keep her mouth shut each time Father comes home.”

  “You are a very cunning young lady,” Hrardorr complimented her, bowing his head in her direction.

  “Thank you, Sir Hrardorr. I do try.”

  It seemed the time for serious conversation was over, and Hrardorr excused himself to do a little fishing. He was gone for almost an hour, but when he returned, he seemed more settled. Calmer. A little more at peace with himself.

  She knew the water—and his ability to navigate in it as if he weren’t blind—had that effect on him, but this was something more. It felt to her as if speaking of his lost knight had been cathartic. He wasn’t over the loss by any stretch of the imagination, but he had started coming to terms with the events of the past. Speaking about it with her had begun a process she hoped would continue to heal his emotional wounds. Either way, she would be there for him as long as he needed her.

  She not only respected Hrardorr, but she…kind of…loved him. Not in a romantic way, of course, but in a sisterly sort of way. He felt like family to her—something of which she had precious little. There was only her and her father, and he had mostly abandoned her in favor of his travels after her mother had died.

  Hrardorr felt alternately like father, brother and uncle to her. She was coming to depend on seeing him at least a few times each week and found herself counting the minutes until she could get back on the water and rendezvous with the dragon.

  “You should talk to Genlitha,” Livia said quietly as they sat side by side—she, in her boat, and he, floating on the waves like some sort of overgrown, scaly swan.

  “I cannot,” he replied quietly. Frankly, she was surprised he’d replied to her impertinent remark at all. “I don’t want her to see me like this.”

  “You don’t want her to see the evidence of your bravery or your courage? You don’t want her to see how magnificent you are, even as badly injured as you once were?” Livia searched for the right words, hoping he understood.

  “I don’t want her to see me helpless.” His voice was small in her mind. Tragic.

  “You aren’t helpless. Especially not here, in the waters of your ancestor. You are amazing, Hrardorr. You can do things other dragons cannot, and someday, I hope you’ll see what I do when I look at you—a hero who can do anything he puts his mind to. You are far from helpless. You have me, and Seth, and many others in the Lair, I’m sure, who stand ready to help you, should you need it, but you are doing very well on your own. Much better than I think anyone would have believed, in fact. No, my friend, you are far from helpless.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” His tone clearly indicated that he did not agree, but he seemed willing to let her words pass without getting upset about them. “And I’m glad you think of me as a friend. You are that to me as well, Livia. Which is surprising, when I think of it. Other than my knights, I have had few human friends, and never a female. You are unique in my experience.”

  “Well, you’re the first dragon I’ve befriended as well, so I could say the same,” she admitted, feeling a warmth in the region of her heart that he’d called her friend. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

  “Oh, to be sure. A mismatch, if there ever was one, but somehow, it works.”

  “I still think you should talk to Genlitha. Her knight seems a most reasonable man, and he speaks so highly of her. I think she would surprise you. And she would not make you feel bad about your injuries. Not on purpose.”

  Hrardorr refused to answer that last attempt, merely si
tting quietly, paddling slowly in the waves. They sat like that for an hour more before the light started to fade, and Livia reluctantly told Hrardorr she had to turn for home if she was to arrive at the shore before nightfall.

  Surprisingly, he paddled alongside her boat for part of the journey home, making a game of filling her sail with gusts of hot wind from his nostrils. She laughed as her boat surged forward each time he did it, and he seemed to draw amusement from the game as well.

  More than one fisherman remarked on it when she finally returned to shore and Hrardorr had flown off toward the Lair. They were fast becoming used to seeing the dragon in the water with her, and they all loved him for the way he’d removed so many predators from the waters near the shore. He was quickly becoming a town favorite, little did he realize it.

  Livia went to sleep that night, still smiling at Hrardorr’s antics. They’d crossed a line today from mere acquaintances to true friends. Though her heart still broke for him and what he’d been through, she felt gratified to know that she had helped him, even in such a small way. He was a different dragon from the one she’d met that first day. He was a little happier, she thought. A little more grounded.

  She sent up a prayer as she prepared for sleep that he would find happiness again one day. If anyone deserved it, he did.

  Gowan was ready to burst with anticipation as the weekend finally arrived. He had a date with the lovely Livia, and he was more than ready to get out of the Lair for a bit and do something enjoyable. He thought spending time with Livia would be immensely enjoyable, and he’d spent the past couple of days planning their outing.

  Genlitha had agreed to help, which was both surprising and fantastic. He only hoped Livia wouldn’t be too scared to fly. If she was, he had a backup plan for an evening in town, but he’d rather go with Plan A, which was something much more special.

  At the appointed time, he and Genlitha flew down to Dragonscove. Gen dropped him off in an open square near Livia’s home, where she would wait to see if Livia was game to fly or not. He’d picked a giant bouquet of the prettiest wildflowers for her from a mountain meadow earlier that day, and he brought them with him to her door.