Offspring (The Sword of the Dragon) (23 page)

She sat in the grass. Across the clearing a rabbit dove under a bush. “Yipe!” She could have sworn it had said, “Yipe!” She shook her head and looked up at him. “Uncle Ombre, do you think the winged men are gone forever?”

“Now that is impossible to say.” He sat beside her and crossed his legs, patting her head. “Did they frighten you the other night?”

With a nod, she glanced at a finch perched at the meadow’s edge. It shook its tiny head and sneezed—she was sure she had seen it sneeze. But that was impossible. “Achoo!” Again she shook her head, trying to clear the sound from her mind.

“Are you all right?” Ombre frowned down at her and felt her forehead. “You haven’t been having bad dreams or anything like that, have you?”

“Oh no, Uncle Ombre, I never have bad dreams.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You can’t fool me. Even I had my share of nightmares as a child. Used to be bears as big as a house—”

“Uncle Ombre?”

“Mmm?” He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger and glanced at the sky, shading his eyes with his hand.

She sighed and gazed up at him. “I
really
never have a bad dream—believe me. I’m not lying.”

Returning her gaze he seemed to search her heart for a moment. His eyes widened and his brow rose. “That is not—natural.” He stroked his jaw with his thumb. “You always have good dreams?”

Soberly, she fingered the clump of night grass. Should she tell him what was on her mind? He wouldn’t believe her. Of that she was certain. But what if she could share the experience with him?

Ombre stood and took her hand in his. He walked her into the forest where bees buzzed past their heads and clamored over the blue and yellow flowers carpeting the ground. Butterflies of extraordinary variety flitted to more distant purple and white petals, keeping just out of reach. Yimshi’s rays pierced the woods, spotlighting a pool of water surrounded by bright moss. A small rainbow graced it where a light mist rose from the water’s surface.

They sat cross-legged on a moss-covered stone. Oganna watched the scenery for a long while, drinking in creation’s glory. Then a strange voice entered her mind. “Fat, lazy humans—blurp! I wish they’d just leave.” The only things in sight were the butterflies and bees. Oh, and one bullfrog spying from the opposite side of the pool, only its head visible in the mud.

“Uncle Ombre,” she said, turning to him and frowning. “Would you think me silly if I told you a strange secret?”

“A strange secret?”

“Yes. It is something I have not told anyone else. I know that people would laugh at me for saying it.” She suddenly jerked her head as another sound caught her ear. “I think I can hear the frogs talking.”

He knit his brow, skepticism filling his eyes. “Talking frogs?”

“Never mind.” She turned away, wishing she hadn’t told him. And why should he believe her? It sounded very silly, even to her. Then his hand grasped her shoulder.

“Forgive me, little one. I should not doubt you.” He sighed. “Please, go on. Tell me everything.”

A second bullfrog joined the first, and they hopped onto lily pads. One croaked, and she again heard something, though this time she could not discern what had been said. She waited a moment, and the croaking resumed. An entire conversation entered her mind. Not understanding why, she reached up, touched Ombre’s forehead, and listened to the bullfrogs. Their words formed in her mind, and she felt that he could now hear them too. His eyes grew big, and his jaw dropped in astonishment.

“Do you hear them, Uncle Ombre?”

In hushed tones he replied, “I do. I hear the bullfrogs talking!”

For several minutes they listened together. Oganna maintained her touch on his forehead. The bullfrogs boasted to one another of their underwater homes and of how many tadpoles they had raised. They talked about the weather and complained about their neighbors. All in all, it sounded very much like a conversation between two people—except of course that they spoke of the most distasteful things for supper and of mannerisms that, to a human, were very strange.

Oganna dropped her hand from his forehead. “Sometimes,” she said, “I can hear other creatures talking too, and I—”

“Go on, little one. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Some of the wild animals come when I think of them.” Silence followed her claim. She rose and closed her eyes to focus her thoughts on a buck, nearby in the forest’s undergrowth. She could feel it respond to her call, and she heard it walk up behind her. A cool breeze rustled the leaves as the buck nuzzled her neck, then plucked a flower with its teeth and set it in her hand.

Ombre looked up at her with mouth agape and eyes shining. “I never …”

She petted the buck until it meandered back into the forest.

“Little one.” Ombre gazed into her eyes. “I won’t pretend to know how you do these things, but from now on I promise you can tell me anything, and I will believe you. You are special, Oganna. Like your mother, you are unique.”

They remained by the pool a little longer, but daylight was fleeting.

“Are you ready to go?” Uncle Ombre threw her over his shoulder and returned to the clearing. She laughed the whole way until he set her in the grass.

Midnight lifted his head from his grazing, whinnied, and trotted up to them. Silver flaked off his hoofs as he moved, leaving glowing chips on the ground.

“Up we go.” Ombre set her in front of him on the Evenshadow, and they rode back to the fort.

As Ombre put Midnight in his stall and removed the bridle, Commander Veil barreled into the stable. “Princess,” he asked, “how would you like a tour of our little town?” He looked to Ombre for permission.

“If you promise to keep an eye on her at all times—”

“Of course I will!” Veil leaned down and grinned. “What do you say, Princess?”

She smiled back and gave him her hand. “I’ve always wanted to see the market.”

“As you wish.” He bowed. She giggled.

Ombre chuckled. “Beat it, you two! And have a good time.”

When Veil and Oganna made their way to the market, a crowd followed them through the streets. The people pressed in and stared. They were not unfriendly, yet she found it discomfiting to be the center of attention.

When they reached the market, everyone finally turned their attention away from her to the farmers behind their carts and the merchants tending their stands.

“Come and see rubies, gold, even diamonds,” called a round man with a bald head. He ran his hand over his display of glistening gems. Two men stood by him, each of them with a hand inserted beneath his cape. Likely they concealed weapons.

She peered through a white fence penning in a flock of sheep, at the young shepherd boy standing in the corner keeping an eye on them. Several passersby stopped, and a deeply tanned farmer stepped around the pen, grinning as he let them touch the wool draped over his arms.

Nearby, a hunter held up raccoon pelts. A deer hung behind him on a rack.

Occasionally a farmer’s crops produced insufficient return, and he would find himself without the means to provide for his family. Sometimes a hunter would have an off-season and would find himself without the means to trade for that which he needed. These people came to the market as well and tried to barter as best they could for what they needed.

She saw one such man that evening. He was speaking with a merchant as she passed by. “I don’t have anything to trade, good sir,” she overheard him say. “But I am an honest man. I will pay you back double—soon as I am able.”

“Sorry, mister.” The merchant held up his hand as if to protect his produce. “I can’t be giving handouts, or I’ll end up in the ruts too. Now get lost! Come back when you have something substantial to offer.”

The farmer hung his head as he turned away.

“Stop!” Oganna broke free of Veil’s grip. She ran to the man and gazed up at him. As everyone watched, she reached into her dress pocket and drew out a beautiful gold chain. It had been a gift from a mayor’s wife on her last birthday. “Use this!”

The man’s eyes widened. He looked at her offering, then at her. “My child, you are too kind. But I cannot take it. Times will favor me again.”

Confused by his refusal, she backed away. Then, seeing he was embarrassed, she spoke again. “The gold is nothing to me. Take it.”

Commander Veil lumbered up from behind her and put both hands on Oganna’s shoulders. “Do not refuse the future queen’s gift.”

“Princess!” The farmer fell to his knees. “Forgive me. I did not realize. Certainly I will not accept—”

Another voice interrupted him. “You most certainly can, and will.” The crowd parted. Ilfedo stepped through with Ombre following. The people bowed and made room for him. “Oganna will one day rule over your children. Do not deny her this simple deed, for in the performance of such things her heart will be encouraged to do good rather than evil.”

He addressed Veil. “See to it that this man and his family are given what they need.” He picked up Oganna and she rode on his back.

Holding on to her father with one hand, she held out the gold chain and smiled at the farmer. “Hold out your hand.”

The farmer’s eyes sparkled as she dropped the chain in his open palm.

“Thank you, sweet child.”

Oganna nodded her head slightly, Ilfedo turned away, and they returned to the fort. Once inside, her father set her at a wooden table in the command center. An array of weapons decorated the walls. There was a wide variety of swords, as well as some spears and a few shields.

“The Elite are prepared,” Ilfedo said as Ombre and Commander Veil took seats. A fly buzzed by and landed on the table before him. With a deft motion he brought his hand down and squashed it. “Little is left to do as far as building the army is concerned and, thankfully, no military challenges have presented themselves. I suggest that, for the time being, we keep the army busy by using it to construct roads and bridges.”

“We should consider forming a few more patrols for the northern border.” Ombre leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms behind his head. He glanced sideways at Oganna. “I’d hate to see any more Art’en sneak across the border.”

At that moment Caritha walked in. “Now the first task is complete. The Elite Thousand are ready to be incorporated into the army.” Her eyes focused on Oganna. “With your permission, my brother, my sisters and I are ready to begin the training.”

Ilfedo closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he came to his daughter and stroked her blond hair. “Very well. When do you wish to begin?”

O
ganna parried her opponent’s thrust with ease, rolled on the ground, and came up behind. The strength of her youth was reaching its peak now, for she had passed her seventeenth birthday. She slipped her blade around the woman’s neck and held it gently against the jugular. “Surrender?”

“Most definitely.” Laura bowed and backed away.

“Well done.” Caritha stepped from the ring of trees that formed the natural arena. “Not meaning you, of course.” She shook her head at Laura and quietly laughed.

“Oh?” Laura asked with a note of challenge in her voice. “Why don’t you try to best her?”

Oganna smiled and ran the flat of her sword’s blade along her white glove. The metal zinged as she did so, and Yimshi’s light caught its shining edge, casting rivulets of metallic radiance. “Aunt Caritha, you aren’t afraid I’ll win, are you?”

“How long have you trained with us?” Caritha crossed her arms.

Oganna knew that Caritha did not need to be answered—her training had taken seven years. In all that time she had exhibited an affinity for swordplay. No other woman in the Hemmed Land could match her now. In fact she was able to hold her own for some time in bouts with her father—though he won eventually. Of the Warrioresses, only Caritha had never tested herself against Oganna in one-on-one sword fighting, and some people had expressed the opinion that she was as good, if not better, than Oganna.

Caritha pointed at her. “You have trained with us for seven years. Now—at seventeen—you wish to challenge me?”

“Why not? Father and I have challenged each other on numerous occasions.”

“Oganna, I do not fight in the manner of your father. He has strength on his side and size. Whereas he drives his blade like a hammer into his opponent, I rely on my speed and accuracy. Beyond that, I rely a good deal on the power in my dragon blood. To challenge me, you would need to first master your dragon half.”

Levena and Evela emerged from the encircling trees and sat on a log. Rose’el followed them but leaned against a tree instead of sitting. She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Humph! Caritha, stop this foolishness. You have put off Oganna’s challenges for too long. I for one would like to see her prove herself. Her father does not utilize all his skills against her and among us
you
are the quickest with a blade. Give Oganna a challenge.”

“Yes.” Laura, Levena, and Evela raised their eyebrows. “Let’s see teacher and student test themselves against one another.”

Caritha shook her head and faced Oganna. “Stay clear of the ring everyone.” She leaned down to part the fold in her garment wherein the rusted sword was concealed. “What conditions would you like to lay down with regard to this match?” Caritha asked.