The Last Praetorian (24 page)

“Fascinating,” she grimaced.

Furge came over and after poking and prodding the dragon, he asked, somewhat sheepishly for a giant, “Tarion, would you mind if we help ourselves to some steaks? It’s your kill, but if you don’t mind sharing, I’d be obliged. Dragon-steak is a rare delicacy and I’d hate to miss out on such a chance.”

“Be my guest, Furge, help yourself to as much as you like.”

“Thanks!” Furge said, truly appreciative of the man’s generosity.

“Furge, can you save a few for the inn?” Hrolf asked. “It would be nice to have old Gaurnothax on the menu for your people and even some humans I know. I’ll give you both a cut of each order.”

“There’s more than enough here, so long as Tarion’s willing,” Furge said.

“Save me the head, the organs, claws, horns and venom sacs; the rest is yours.”

Furge and his friends set to work.

That was too much for Aubrey. She had no desire to watch the giant’s grisly task and told them so. Climbing the bank, she wandered through the trees to the little knoll overlooking the road; she stood, without knowing it, on the very spot where Gaurnothax laid in wait for her father. From there the woods opened to the north, giving Aubrey a view of the heavily wooded ridges beneath the white clad peaks. The sun shone through the breaking clouds and sent shafts of sunlight into the deep woods. Tarion joined her.

Aubrey smiled sincerely at his arrival, but the coquettish light in her eyes faded. She seemed at peace for the moment and her voice was serious but untroubled. “The woods here are so quiet and beautiful,” she said. “I love these mountains despite what I may think of their inhabitants sometimes. In the past, we called this place Gotthab, the Seat of the Gods. Up there on the ridge, the Druids had a temple. I went there once with Father; it was in the winter, of course, while Gaurnothax was asleep. Among the trees is a glade open to the north and there you can look out over Trondheim onto the sea and even to the mountains of Jotunheim far away. Our people abandoned it long ago, for it is, or rather was, the center of Gaurnothax’s realm. I was so taken by the sight that I told Father that one day I would join the order of the Druids and re-establish that temple.”

Tarion was surprised, not by Aubrey’s desires, but by how well they fit with the wishes of his parents. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was hope for him after all. He smiled and said, “It seems to me such a calling would be appropriate for your spirit, Aubrey. You’ve too much intellect and ambition to be happy as a barmaid. What stopped you?”

“Only me,” she said with a sad smile. “I was but eight then and I didn’t really understand the realities of the world. Father took me to the academy and had me tested. They said I would make a tolerably good witch, but that I was much better suited for the druidic order. The Academy sent word to Lady Syf and she accepted me as an acolyte in Bilskirnir. Yet the inn was not so well off then and I saw how my parents labored. I told myself that I couldn’t leave them. Now I know it wasn’t their needs that held me back, but my own doubts.”

“We all live with the demon of self doubt, Aubrey, but it’s a lesser demon than regret.”

“Do you have any doubts, Tarion?”

“I’ve enough for the entire Imperium, Aubrey!” He looked around, feeling at peace for the moment. Maybe it could work. He almost broached the subject, but Freya held him back. It was the very doubt he spoke of, what Freya reminded him of—his immutable sense of responsibility. “We can’t let doubt control our lives; we have to live life—neither the God’s nor even fate can do that for us.”

“So we really do have a choice?”

“Of course, the only question is what will you do with it?” Was he asking Aubrey or himself?

The girl thought about it and said, “I feel compelled to follow my heart, but this is my home. One day I’d like to return and start a family. I’ll build a house, or even a temple in Gotthab. It’s free now, thanks to you.” She smiled and took his arm in hers. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do. And what of you, Tarion, you can have almost anything you desire?”

“You would think so, but as the Praetorian of the Imperium I don’t really have control of my destiny,” he told her truthfully. “I am on a quest. That binds me to the will of others, but if I were free I think I could stay in this country—it’s my mother’s country.” He stepped down to the road, holding out a helping hand to Aubrey. She climbed down the bank. He held onto her hand a moment longer than needed, then he abruptly let her go and turned away. Retrieving the scales, he loaded them on his horse. “There, that’s a nice parting gift from Gaurnothax!”

“You have your armor, Tarion. Can we go now?” Aubrey asked. The sun disappeared behind the clouds and the cold froze the adventure out of her.

Tarion led Aubrey to the cart. “I have business to attend to out here. You go back to the inn and think about what you said to
me. We’re all unique, Aubrey; all of us have some potential or other. Finding that gift is the most difficult part of life. Accepting what we find is the greatest gift we can give ourselves. It must be so, for only we can accept it.”

“You sound as if you’re trying to talk me out of falling for you, Tarion. It isn’t working,” she said and the feline gleam returned to her eye. She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He squeezed her hand, but said, “Think about it, Aubrey. You have a future of your own making; something I do not. I think there’s promise here for you. My mother was a druid after all.”

Aubrey leaned forward to kiss him
. Tarion responded. Furge interrupted with a discovery.

“Ho! What have we here? This is a stroke of luck!”

“What is it?” asked Hrolf.

“Look!”

Furge’s work exposed the dragon’s stomach. Something was inside and it was moving.

“What the devil is that, parasites?” Tarion asked.

“No, something many times better!” Furge exclaimed. He cut a long slash in the stomach with his knife and stepped back. In short order, one, then two and then three little dragon heads popped out. They looked about and chirped excitedly.

“What on earth are they doing in his stomach?” Tarion asked.

“It’s a clutch of eggs not his own,” Furge explained. “He rooted them out and ate them. Gaurnothax is smart. He didn’t break the shells; so, no matter how long he keeps them they’ll lie in his belly and incubate. That’s what the females do in order to protect them.”

“Why would Gaurnothax carry another male’s eggs?”

“He wanted to devour them, of course! They’re sensitive to hot and cold, dragon eggs are. That’s why they can give birth in the spring no matter when they conceive. The females allow the eggs to incubate until she’s ready. Then she brings them up. The eggs sense the change and hatch. Gaurnothax was doing the same and this spring he was going to wake up and allow them to hatch. It would be a nice little meal for him to start off the year!”

“Disgusting!” the girl said.

“Gaurnothax must have cooled over the night enough for the eggs to hatch. Now we can enjoy what he intended! Come to me, my pretties!” Furge said with excitement and he reached for them with one huge mitt.

The dragons chirped in alarm and dashed like little snakes straight to Tarion. Their action caught him so much by surprise that he stood there, frozen. The little dragons wound up his legs as if he were a tree. In a twinkling, the three orphans were under his cloak and clinging to him with their tiny claws. The little heads poked out from various locations and chirped angrily at Furge.

“It looks like they’ve found their daddy!” Hrolf laughed.

“Isn’t that darling!” Aubrey smiled.

“Wonderful, just what I need,” Tarion moaned.

“I could take them off your hands,” Furge offered. He reached for one of the dragons, but one of the little monsters snapped at him. The giant yelped as the baby’s tiny teeth clamped down on his finger and blood spurted.

“Furge, don’t you dare!” Aubrey intervened. “You can’t eat them! They’re just babies!”

“They’re dragons, Miss Aubrey! You want that they should grow up to be like Gaurnothax?” he complained, cradling his wounded finger.

“He has a point, lass,” her father agreed. “We got rid of one ancient trouble—why invite a new one?”

“Dragons have their place too!” she objected. “They’re part of our world and we’d be poorer without them. I don’t want them slaughtered without even a chance at life. I won’t allow it! It’s not right!”

“Now, lass,” Hrolf started, but Tarion interrupted.

“Actually, my friends, Aubrey is quite correct,” he said firmly, knowing that his mother would agree with what Aubrey was saying. He walked up to her and took her shoulder. “There’s a balance to things and Aubrey is right to remind us of that. Dragons are a wonder of this world that we should not take for granted. That being said, I’m now faced with a dilemma of choice: what to do with them?”

He looked to Aubrey.

“Well, you can’t kill them, Tarion,” she told him firmly.

“Obviously,” he said. “But I can’t abandon them and I can’t carry them with me.”

“You’ll have to take them back to their mother,” she said with authority.

“Spoken like a true druid priestess,” Tarion sighed. “Very well, you’ve decided my course: somewhere out there is a mother pining for her lost children. By your direction Aubrey, I’m going to find her.”

“What, you can’t be serious, man?” Hrolf started.

“Really, Hrolf, what else am I to do?” Tarion asked. “Aubrey is right. If I kill them, or abandon them and the mother finds out, she’ll be at war with Trondheim. I can’t keep them. They would cause rather a stir following me about, especially when they grow up! Besides, you told me the duke wasn’t going to be happy after I ruined his agreement with Gaurnothax. I suppose I must mend that as well. So, as our future druid priestess says, I must take them back.”

Hrolf rolled his eyes and Furge scratched his head.

“Well, that’s settled then. Setris, you know the lands hereabouts. Do you have any clue where there might be a female forest dragon?”

The pixie came to a hover, thinking aloud, “There’s Davorix, out by the fjord, but she’s devoted to Gaurnothax so it couldn’t be her. Marris Narnyx is too far away and she’s too practical to choose another male within his realm. Well, there’s Hera Vora. She’s young, barely of age and rumor has it that she had a romance with a young strapping blue of the mountains. Gaurnothax must have discovered the affair and hunted the blue down. It could be her. She makes her cave about ten miles away as the pixie flies.”

“I suppose I better get moving then if I’m going to reach her lair before sundown,” Tarion said.

“Well, you know your own business, Tarion. I’ll have to trust you to it,” Hrolf sighed. He retrieved a flagon of ale and took a drink. Handing it to Tarion, he patted him on the shoulder. “This’ll keep you warm on the road. Have a care now man and return safe and whole.”

“Thanks, Hrolf,” Tarion smiled. The three dragons, sensing they were safe with their protector, whirled about his body playing at dragon-tag. He turned to Aubrey and squeezed her hand. “Before you go, though, I have something I want to say to Aubrey and you as her father should bear witness, for it will require your approval.”

Aubrey beamed at him.

Hrolf stared at him in surprise and horror.

What are you doing?
The Lady’s stern voice seared his brain. The voice was not happy.

Chapter 21:
  Dragons, Druids, more Dragons and Another Diamond

Hrolf was in straights. What could he possibly say to the man who saved his life? More to the point, Hrolf knew the trials of Tarion Praetorian—everyone did. The Praetorian’s unrequited loves were frequent gossip in his tavern. After all, what better to talk about than the romantic trials of famous people? Now he, Hrolf, was about to deliver another blow. How would Tarion react? He had a powerful temper.

“Aubrey, beautiful Aubrey,” Tarion said.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. A wind sprang up.

Hrolf’s gut churned, but he managed to raise his hand, “Tarion a moment please.”

Aubrey jumped in front of her father, taking his hands in hers, “Yes Tarion?”

He took a deep breath and smiled. “Aubrey, as the Praetorian of the Imperium I wish to bestow my blessing on you as a druid priestess. By the power invested upon me by
Emperor Diocletian III and the Empress Minerva, I assign you to the acolytes of Lady Syf. You are to journey to her house Bilskirnir as soon as may be. Congratulations, you’ve taken a first step toward your future today.”

Aubrey looked shocked. “What do you mean?”

“Yes, what do you mean?” Hrolf added, looking no less surprised.

“You spoke from the heart, as a druid priestess might for the balance of life and for nature over the desire of the individual,” Tarion told her. “I think you’ve found your path!”

You are a cad; a very skillful, heartless cad—I quite approve. You got this Goddess all a-tingle!

Aubrey’s brows contracted. Her mouth sprang open, but she said nothing.

Hrolf heaved a sigh of relief.

“But?” Aubrey started.

“It’s a long road, Aubrey,” Tarion told her, taking her hand and kissing it. “It’s your road nonetheless. If you don’t believe me ask the little dragons.” The pups peered out of Tarion’s cloak and gazed at Aubrey. As one, they chirped at her, almost if singing.

She reached out and stroked each one. They purred.

Hrolf pushed Aubrey into the cart and climbed up cart next to her, chortling to himself. “Furge, are you all loaded up and ready to go?”

“Sure, I owe Tarion too much for the steaks to be sorry for the loss of the babes. Besides, Miss Aubrey makes me feel guilty about it. It wouldn’t do no good to start the day off making a druid priestess mad at me!” The giant waved to Tarion. “Good luck!”

“I doubt you’ll need it, but I won’t be there to distract the next dragon,” Hrolf said with a smile. “Finish up soon, Tarion; we’ll find a bed for you.” He started the oxen down the road with Furge striding easily alongside. When Tarion disappeared behind the trees, Hrolf cast an inquisitive glance at his daughter. She was huddled against him and ready to be home.

“So what do you think, Aubrey?” he asked, grinning. “There’s an exciting life awaiting some lucky maid, running around in the wilds, living hand to mouth and such!”

Aubrey cuffed her father on the back of the head, as she’d seen her mother do countless times and that was that.

#

Tarion tried not to think of Aubrey. He tried to ignore the laughter seemingly coming from the woods. His ardor and his doubt made things far too complicated. Still, he was sincere concerning Aubrey’s druidic skills. She was more than a barmaid. Someday, when she was a druid and he was free of his burden, then maybe they had a future.

We’ll see about that!

Tarion ignored the promptings of Freya, spending the next hour working over Gaurnothax. Before long, scavengers would pull the corpse apart. As he told Aubrey, he couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste. Tarion knew how valuable Gaurnothax was even if he was dead. Applying his rude surgical skills Tarion harvested some of the more profitable items of the dragon’s anatomy. He wrapped them carefully in dragon-scale and packed them in a burlap sack. Gaurnothax served another function. The babes were hungry and Tarion didn’t need to tell them what to do. Ironically, through his own designs, Gaurnothax became dinner for his own breakfast.

Tarion hitched up the last of his baggage and turned to the pups. “Are you coming?”

Chirping and squealing, the little dragons abandoned their tormentor. Scurrying inside Tarion’s cloak, they were soon snug and warm, purring in slumbering bliss.

Mounted on the horse and ready to go, Tarion asked, “Which way, Setris?”

The pixie shook his head, “You are a strange one, Tarion; but you’re a special client so I’ll take you there myself. I still have to study you for the gloves. Besides, you’ve already got more than enough of Gaurnothax in that bag for my commission!”

Tarion welcomed the company. In fact, he was in a much better mood. There were no prying eyes in the forest and no one to tell him he was other than a man. He was returning dragon babes to their mother; there was nothing deep or dark in that. It was an improvement.

Setris led him west over a well-worn forest path. As the afternoon waned, they came upon an open birch wood set in a high sheltered valley. The air was clear and crisp with the scent of fallen leaves and wet snow. The babbling of a small brook filled the place with a clean refreshing sound. A pleasant dell overlooked the forest. Beyond the stream, walls of weathered rock served as shelter. At the back of the dell was a small, dilapidated castle. The gate yawned open like a toothless mouth. A steep roofed hall rose behind the walls, but the roof had long since rotted away and all that remained was a shell. It was too bad, for the castle overlooked a gap in the mountains and the glittering sea beyond. The horse snorted and shied, unhappy at being so close to the lair.

“Like as not, she’s still hibernating,” Tarion said.

“For an otherwise talented human, you have ears of wood,” Setris said. “Can’t you hear that moaning? It’s been apparent for the last furlong at least.”

“Well, I’ll find out,” he said. “Come on little fellows it’s time to meet mommy.” Tarion rode down into the moat, which was now little more than a shallow ditch and through the open gate. The courtyard was grass-grown and empty. He tied the horse to the branch of a tree and climbed the steps to the hall with Setris. The late afternoon sun peeked out from underneath the gray skies, sending dusty shafts of light through the silent hall. The place was devoid of valuables, but it wasn’t in disarray. The windows and roof were gone, but there were no debris. Everything was clean and orderly, which was strange for a ruin. At the end of the hall, another set of steps led to a tall niche carved in the stone of the hill. A dark portal stood open, adorned on each side by rich, well-maintained tapestries.

Tarion could now hear the dragon’s groans. There was sadness to it and a grim resignation, but he couldn’t catch the words. He lit his lantern and stepped through the arch of the doorway. The lamp revealed a small antechamber behind the great hall. Skilled hands carved the chamber out of the rock of the hills. There was furniture here and even a carpet over the stone floor. At the end of the chamber was a set of doors. They were heavy, nail studded doors obviously meant to guard a treasury. They were open.

“Excuse me!” Tarion called loudly in elvish. He approached the treasury carefully. “Hera Vora? May I come in?”

“Who disturbs my misery?” a raspy feminine voice said in elvish. Two bronze eyes glowed in the dark. “I thought you to be Gaurnothax, come to finish his conquest. Certainly, I cannot be mistaken of his scent, which is upon you right and clear!”

 
“No, Hera Vora, I’m Tarion. You need not worry about Gaurnothax. I’ve slain him.”

“What’s this?” she cried and at once, a graceful green head, about the size of a horse’s head, poked out of the treasury portal. “What are you saying? You’ve slain the ruffian?”

“I have at that and I’ve brought you something that never should’ve been taken from your care, Lady Hera!” Tarion smiled, producing the three little dragons. They blinked in the sudden light. “I assume these are your little truants?”

Hera Vora gave a cry and dashed out, sniffing each one of her charges. The reunion was touching and she was in obvious wonderment.

“How can this be? How may a mortal return to me my own? I’ve never heard tell of such a deed and none would believe my tale if I told it!”

“I appreciate that,” Tarion said sincerely. “Really, look at these little rascals. How could I have done otherwise?”

“I still don’t understand,” Hera said. “Yet worry not, Tarion. You will journey home with reward. I have little gold, but it’s yours and more besides.”

“No, lady, truly I’m content with your good graces and your consideration.”

She looked at him with eyes wide with wonder and sentiment. “You amaze me! I’ve never heard the like. My gratitude is yours forever, yet that cannot be payment enough. You must wish something of me! Come, I will not be as poor in praise as to send you off without reward!”

“I think perhaps we can be of service to each other.”

“Indeed? I’m heartily glad to listen,” she said, perking her ears in curiosity. “Yet where are my manners; let us not talk in the doorway. Come in, please.”

Hera Vora’s lair was Spartan but tastefully appointed. She lit copper lanterns and they splashed pleasant light on the furnishings, which though few in number were well cared for. She led Tarion to a large leather chair. He gratefully accepted it and Setris perched on the back.

Hera Vora lit a fire, spitting a thin stream of acid onto some tinder in the fireplace. A small blaze sprang forth and she added wood from a pile fastidiously stacked in the niche next to the hearth. Soon a merry blaze warmed the treasury, which was larger than Tarion guessed. The dragoness brought out a bottle of wine and filled two bronze goblets with great care. She handed one to Tarion.

“I apologize, but I have no cup for one of your size, my dear pixie,” Hera told Setris.

“No matter, I always come prepared.” Setris snapped his tiny fingers and a cup appeared in his hand. He flew over to Tarion’s goblet and dipped the cup into the wine. “Excellent!” he said and he flew back to his seat.

Hera raised her goblet to Tarion and they sipped their wine.

 “Thank you lady, this is excellent indeed,” he said with a nod, settling back very comfortably. “It may please you to know that as the Praetorian of the mortal Imperium I am no stranger to the courts of the emperor or even to elven royalty.” Tarion knew dragons. His anonymity would do him no good here. It would in fact work against his plans. A man’s standing had much to do with the etiquette and consideration a dragon might afford a mortal—it also offered legitimacy for any favor he showed her and any he could expect in return. Since he didn’t wear his armor, he flashed the Praetorian medallion. The act had two purposes, it validated his claim and it showed her that he considered himself her equal—therefore her services were strictly out of gratitude, not as a sign of weakness, but out of courtesy. “Hera Vora I must express my admiration for your obvious breeding and manners.” Dragons were notoriously fastidious creatures driven to distraction by convention. It was not unheard of for a dragon to spend a week deciding on the placement of a single trinket in their hoard. Hera Vora was no different. She knew the hierarchy of men, elves, dwarves—even gnomes. Tarion’s compliment, coming as it did from the Praetorian of men caused her to positively glow with pride.

 
“My matron would be pleased with your observation, Tarion Praetorian,” Hera Vora smiled, shuttling her pups to the back of the grotto where they wouldn’t interrupt their conversation. “She was the great Lady Olivia Vora whose realm was in the far off forests of the Tulari.”

Tarion sipped his wine and thought for a moment. Dragon genealogy was an important subject for those who dared to deal with dragons, but Lady Hera was not of royal lineage. He had to think hard before he recalled her family. Fortunately, he had a childhood fascination of dragons and studied them ardently—more important, he had Alfrodel’s memory to draw on. Tarion had a picture in his mind of Hera’s father
. The name was coming, but in order for his pause not to seem so long, he said, “She was a lady of great refinement and unimpeachable character. She lived with steadfast honor and tribute within the great serpentine valley of Tularae Fulla Gilla,” his use of the full archaic name of the Misty Valley of the Tulari, a sacred place in elvendom, impressed her and bought him the extra moment he needed. “Your sire was then Pergamum Vora, who demanded and received notable tribute from King Alfrodel?”

“He was,” Hera Vora replied with an expression of delight.

“Alas, we lost him on Vigrid, but he died nobly—his memory is an inspiration to all free peoples.”

“You honor me,” Hera Vora, said, appreciating the complement.

“As do you Lady,” Tarion said, giving the correct response.

“Perhaps you do not understand the service you’ve rendered me in slaying Gaurnothax.” Hera said, curling up opposite Tarion and Setris on a bed of copper and silver coins. There was a smattering of gems but it was by no means a rich hoard. She appeared to be uncomfortably aware of it.

“I admit to some confusion on that end Lady Hera,” Tarion nodded, cradling the wine. This was a sticky subject. Hera was from the east, the old world of wealth, tradition and nobility. How was it that she came here to the hinterlands? Why was she here in the impoverished duchy of Norrland instead of the more civilized and wealthy climes of nearby elven Haldieth? He could tell Hera Vora was appreciative, but somehow he sensed there was something more, something even more tragic to her tale. He debated whether to say anything more, but he decided he didn’t have the luxury of ignorance. “Your matron fled east with the elves, but after that I know nothing.” He sipped his wine. “Certainly, the Norse must be honored to have a lady of such lineage overseeing their realm, but I cannot imagine the elves were pleased to lose such a lady of quality.”