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Micky Carre
Micky Carre

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Dragon Riders of Etrea 2—Chapter 28

It was the smell of death that woke Henrik.

Something like rotting meat in an open grave filled the air. It pulled Henrik from the depths of his sleep like a noose. His eyes snapped open, wondering if an orc raiding party had found them in the night and poisoned them.

“Isobel,” he said quietly, shaking her. “Wake up. Something is wrong.”

By the gods, it was terrible. He grabbed his nearby shirt and held it over his nose and mouth so he didn’t vomit. Even The Duke was distressed, and that horse was used to everything by now.

“What?” Isobel said groggily. She immediately put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Cazeth, that’s a bad one.”

The massive dragon lifted her head to look at them, then snorted and laid back down.

“She gets gassy sometimes,” Isobel explained. She grabbed part of Henrik’s shirt hanging from his hand and put it over her nose and mouth. “The wind should clear everything in a moment.”

“That was Cazeth?” Henrik asked.

Isobel gave him a wry look. “If your diet included hooves and fur and bones, I’m sure your ass would smell like roses.”

Henrik laughed. “Fair enough.”

He laid back down and Isobel settled her head on his shoulder, like usual. After a few minutes a light breeze cleared the air and they fell back asleep.

They woke with the sunrise as usual, with Henrik waking just a few minutes before Isobel. He liked it that way; he could just stare at her perfect face, her slender nose, her full lips, without feeling awkward. She was absolutely breathtaking.

Isobel eventually woke up, and they held each other tightly for a moment. It was a great way to start the day.

Henrik prepared a simple breakfast while Isobel spent a moment with The Duke. She loved animals so she enjoyed being around the horse, but she also used her magic to increase his stamina.

After breakfast they continued their journey. The Duke was once again filled with energy and eager to run. Henrik finally decided to let the horse set his own pace. The Duke almost immediately went into a full gallop and held it for nearly an hour before finally slowing.

He forced The Duke to just walk for an hour, then sped back up to a canter. With Isobel’s magic, the horse could hold that all day.

As they had the day before, they stopped for lunch and took a break. Cazeth and Isobel landed nearby and spent a few minutes with them, then they were off again.

Their daily routine was efficient and kept them traveling at an excellent pace. Which was fortunate, because if Henrik had to eat any more dried meat, hard cheese, and hardtack, he was going to get rather cranky.

Each night they slept in each other’s arms. Isobel’s size was just perfect for that; Henrik’s arm never once fell asleep. She fit against him like a glove.

Isobel insisted that her magic wasn’t as strong as Anslie’s, but The Duke raced across the land at a record pace. Earlier she had said she hoped to shave a day or two off of their trip. Henrik fully believed it.

She never complained about their travel food, which made Henrik grateful. Actually, Isobel didn’t complain much about anything. She was a strong woman, a tough woman, and he was glad to have her.

On the third night she said she finally wasn’t sore anymore, so they made love next to the campfire before going to sleep. They kept things slow and passionate, the perfect way to end a long day.

“When will Meriel arrive?” Henrik asked on the morning of the fourth day.

“She may have already passed us,” Isobel said. “But, knowing her, she’s timing things so we all arrive at the same time. I’m sure the girls will be glad to see their mother.”

“Cazeth is both of their mothers?” Henrik asked. 

Isobel nodded. “Annasta is the fastest by far. Possibly even faster than Emyss.”

“So Emyss is the biggest, the meanest, and the fastest?” Henrik asked.

“Now you see why we’re worried,” Isobel said.

“Well, let’s focus on this first,” he said.

“Do you have any idea how you’re going to handle this?” Isobel asked.

“I do,” Henrik replied. “I’ll tell you when we’re all together.” She nodded.

They set out again, The Duke once again bolstered by Isobel’s magic. Henrik began to recognize some of the land around them. They were close.

Cazeth flew overhead, and instead of circling like usual she went straight toward a mountain. She knew exactly where she was.

“We’re almost there, boy,” Henrik said. At least The Duke would be able to eat his bodyweight in grass and clover when they got there.

Henrik saw the draw in the mountain range and steered The Duke towards it. He let the horse move as quickly as he could until the path became steep enough that it was dangerous, then slowed him back to a fast walk.

And that was when he saw Annasta and Meriel. Henrik had seen birds of prey speed through the air, and this looked like a hundred-foot-long version. Annasta was much more slender than the other two dragons, and flew at a speed Henrik didn’t realize was even possible. It was hard to make out at that distance but it looked like Meriel was hunched over in her saddle, leaning over the dragon’s neck and holding on for dear life. The dragon crossed the sky like an arrow.

Henrik was excited to meet Meriel. He knew very little about her—Anslie and Isobel hadn’t described her much, and insisted that Henrik would just have to get to know her himself.

When Henrik and The Duke drew close to the landing in front of Tossyth’s cave, there was a slight problem. The Duke was somewhat used to having one calm dragon nearby, but seeing three of the massive beasts scared him shitless. It took serious effort to keep him from bolting away.

“Hey!” Henrik shouted. Three dragon heads snapped around and stared at him like lions watching a wounded antelope. He felt the presence of their minds pressing against his, a massive weight like the mountain itself. He tried to send them images of his horse being scared, then the dragons moving inside the cave so he could pass by, then them resuming their socialization.

Annasta said nothing. Cazeth understood and slowly stood. Tossyth was excited to see Henrik, and she pulled the other two back into her cave.

“Alright, boy,” Henrik said, patting The Duke on the neck in an attempt to calm him. The horse was still terrified, but he finally finished the journey up the hill, then through the narrow gap that led to the valley. Once they were there, the horse relaxed.

Henrik steered The Duke near Anslie’s house, then dismounted and untacked the horse. He gave him a quick brushdown, then walked back toward the dragon cave. He was excited to see his friends, but he wanted to thank the dragons for letting him pass. A bit of manners never hurt.

When he approached the cave, the dragons were still emerging. Annasta came first and moved right for him.

She was definitely more slender than the others, but no less terrifying for it. Her golden eyes focused on him and she stepped forward, smelling him. Hot dragon breath nearly knocked Henrik over, but he stood his ground. This part was important.

Annasta’s lip curled, baring massive teeth. She exhaled hard, enough to make Henrik stumble. He stabilized himself and moved back in front of her. She didn’t like him, that much was immediately apparent. He tried to send a greeting to her.

What she sent in return felt like a knife being driven through his brain. Henrik grit his teeth and maintained eye contact with the surly dragon. She was using the force of her mind to try to overwhelm him. Resisting it wasn’t easy, especially since his sword was leaning against Anslie’s cabin.

Cazeth suddenly stepped forward and pushed Annasta’s head out of the way with her own. The two dragons stared at each other, something passing between them. Annasta finally bowed her head and stepped away. 

“Thank you, mother,” Henrik said to Cazeth.

She sat back on her haunches so Henrik walked up to her and patted her leg. She found the gesture strange, but appreciated it.

A steel-colored mass of energy shot out of the cave and nearly tackled Henrik.

Calduin snapped his teeth in excitement and butted his head against Henrik, almost tripping him twice. Henrik laughed and scratched the dragon’s neck, which resulted in that purring sound. It had deepened as Calduin grew, and now sounded like a large dog.

And he had certainly grown. Henrik had only been gone a bit over a week but Calduin was nearly the size of a horse, now. He was still as playful as a toddler, which could be dangerous; he didn’t know his own strength yet.

Tossyth watched them both and Henrik felt approval coming from her. He tried to send a message to her pointing out how much Calduin had grown. Tossyth glanced at her son and pride practically radiated from her, as well as several images explaining the ridiculous amount of food the young dragon ate. She leaned her massive head over the small dragon and nuzzled him. Calduin’s purring noise grew even louder.

So many thoughts came from Calduin it was hard to sort through them. Henrik finally realized that Calduin wanted to show him something, so he reached out and ran his hand along the dragon’s neck to hopefully calm him a bit.

“Okay, show me,” Henrik said.

Calduin bounded a few steps toward the edge of the landing and opened his mouth. It took him a few tries, but he finally exhaled sharply and a three-foot gout of white-hot fire blasted from his mouth. He turned back to Henrik, excitement practically making him shake.

Henrik still didn’t know how to treat a dragon, but he was glad for the little guy. He held his arms out and Calduin quickly moved to him. Henrik hugged the dragon tightly, and Calduin wrapped his long neck around Henrik’s back. Tossyth watched them, and Henrik felt more approval from her. From Cazeth as well. Annasta just stared. Henrik felt nothing from her.

“Alright, you go back to your family for now,” Henrik said to Calduin. “I need to go see my friends, okay?”

Calduin pressed his head against Henrik’s chest. Henrik laughed and hugged the dragon, then rubbed his neck again and scratched under his chin. Calduin’s head was almost exactly the size of a horse’s head, but his strength was much greater.

“Okay, boy,” Henrik said, giving his dragon one last hug. It filled him with joy, seeing his dragon growing up this way; just a playful child, and not a hint of the violent mess he could otherwise become.

Henrik turned to walk back to the valley and saw someone standing there, leaning against the stone with her arms crossed.

She was not a tall woman; probably reaching only as high as his chest. Her dark hair was long, and framed a delicate face. Her build was slender, like a dancer. Golden eyes studied Henrik.

Henrik approached the woman. He couldn’t place an age to her; truth be told these dragon riders seemed to age differently than regular people. She seemed a bit older than the others, though.

“So, you’re Meriel,” Henrik said when he stood in front of her. This close, her beauty was stunning. Anslie and Isobel were truly gorgeous women; flawless even. But Meriel seemed almost unnaturally beautiful. If there ever was a perfect face, she had it.

“Annasta tells me you aren’t scared of her,” she said, her golden eyes watching him like a wolf. “I think that upset her. Dragons aren’t used to people being unafraid of them.”

“We just need to get to know each other,” he said.

“What kind of man are you that doesn’t fear a dragon?” Meriel asked. 

Henrik shrugged. “I just do what needs to be done.” He didn’t know what else to say to that, so he held out his hand.

Meriel’s eyes went from his down to his hand and she just stared at it for a moment. Henrik kept his arm out and Meriel eventually reached out and placed her hand in his. Henrik bent down and kissed the back of her fingers.

A faint smile crossed her lips at that. “Thank you, Henrik. Manners are appreciated.”

“Shall we go see the others?” Henrik asked.

Meriel nodded. “Yes. You need to introduce me to your friends. I find them rather fascinating.”



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