Micky Carre
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Dragon Riders of Etrea—Chapter 21
🕑 Added 2024-07-20 11:53:12 +0000 UTCHenrik watched the woman for a moment, looking for any signs of trickery. “I need your word that you aren’t going to have your pet dragon try to eat me.”
She flashed him an angry look. “She is not my pet, thief.” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “Tossyth is right about you. Without even realizing it, you see yourself above everyone else.” The hot anger in her voice suddenly turned as cold as a northern winter. “And trust me, if she wanted to eat you, there would be no ‘try.’ You would be in her belly in a matter of seconds, no matter how big you are.”
Henrik looked at her for a moment, then glanced over his shoulder at the dragon. The dragon met his eyes and snorted again. He finally slid his dagger into its sheath, then slowly extended his broken hand to the beautiful woman.
She was quite striking, with her flawless features and bright eyes. Even angry, she was probably the most beautiful woman Henrik had ever seen. He remembered the tales of the farmer that saw a dragon snatch one of his sheep away. The farmer had mentioned a woman with the face of an angel, riding the dragon like a man rides a horse. Seeing her now, Henrik understood.
She took a step towards him, then reached out and took his hand in both of hers. “You should thank Tossyth. She wants me to heal your hand. I just want to kill you.”
“Um. Thanks, Tossyth,” Henrik said. The dragon snorted again.
The woman placed her hand over Henrik’s, then closed her eyes and began whispering something in the language of magic. Her voice became soft, like the wind blowing through trees.
Henrik had been healed by Rasud more times than he could remember, and it was never a pleasant experience. The feeling of his skin crawling back together, of muscles pulling bones back into place was enough to make a man sick.
This dragon woman had different magic, apparently. Warmth flowed through Henrik’s arm and into his hand, like someone pouring hot water through his veins. His hand shifted as his knuckles moved back into place, but there was no pain.
“That should do it,” she said, releasing his hand. She looked up at him for a moment. Tossyth huffed again, but the woman didn’t say anything in return. She just continued looking at Henrik, her gaze hard and unwavering.
Henrik looked down at his hand and flexed it a few times. Not a single bit of pain was left. Furthermore, he felt like he had slept the entire night.
“My name is Ansley.” Her tone didn’t suggest she was thrilled at introducing herself.
“Henrik,” he replied. “Thank you for healing my hand.”
She just looked at him for a moment, her bright blue eyes hard like ice and twice as cold.
“So, what kind of bargain are we going to strike?” Henrik asked. “What will it take for me to leave here with my head still firmly attached to my neck?”
“I know, he is,” Ansley said, looking over Henrik’s shoulder at the dragon. “I wish it weren’t so.”
“Are you going to tell me what she’s saying?” Henrik asked.
Ansley gave him a sharp look. “No. You haven’t earned that yet. Remember, Henrik, you came here to steal something precious from Tossyth and me. The only reason you didn’t is because others beat you to it.”
“And the only reason I came to steal it was because my life depended upon it,” Henrik said.
“So, someone sent you to steal the egg or they’ll kill you?” she asked.
Henrik nodded. “Being a thief is the only thing that saved me from the headsman.”
“Well, being a thief might save you from the jaws of a dragon,” she said. “You said you fought orcs earlier?”
Henrik nodded. “They were five and us three.”
“And how many of those five did you kill?”
“Three.”
She pursed her lips. “You said you have a witchman with you? I’ve only heard that term used in reference to the orc shamans.”
“My friend is a halfbreed. His father was an orc.”
“Well, pray that his magic is strong enough to keep you alive,” Ansley said. “You and your party are going to chase down the orcs that stole from us. You’re going to get our egg and bring it back to us, or Tossyth will strip the flesh from your bones.”
Behind him, the dragon let out a noise that sounded strangely like a dog’s whine. Henrik couldn’t be sure, but once again he thought he detected immeasurable sadness in the dragon’s voice. He didn’t know why he had that notion. She was a dragon; it wasn’t like he could talk to her like this woman could.
“So, if I bring the egg back to you, then I have to return to Selfoss empty-handed,” Henrik said. “Which means I’ll be spending time with the headsman, and he’s someone I’d rather not be acquainted with.”
“Don’t worry about that right now,” Anslie said. “Return the egg to us and I believe we can come up with a solution for your problem. But if you think you can take the egg and run, know that you’ll be torn to pieces. You and your friends.”
Henrik looked over at the dragon. Her head was right next to him, and she nudged him. This whole situation was strange and he didn’t understand it, but he knew better than to argue with this woman and her dragon.
“Fine,” Henrik said. He reached over and patted the dragon on the head the way he would have with a dog. She didn’t seem to mind. “We will try, but the orcs have a head start on us. I can’t promise we’ll be able to catch up with them before they meet up with others.”
“We can take care of that,” Anslie said. She walked over to the dragon and spoke to her in a quiet voice. They almost seemed to be arguing, but Henrik couldn’t hear them. Anslie shook her head and gestured, and the dragon stomped a foot in return.
Henrik just shook his head at the whole thing. A woman arguing with a dragon. Chasing after orcs to retrieve a dragon egg. Life took him in strange directions at times.
Anslie returned a moment later with a water skin in hand. “Here,” she said, smacking it against Henrik’s stomach. “Feed this to your horses. It will grant them unparalleled speed and stamina for a day.”
Henrik took the water skin and looked at it. “Magic?” he asked.
Anslie nodded. “Tossyth wants her child back, regardless of the situation, so she used her magic on this water. Remember, it’s for your horses, not you.”
Henrik frowned. “So that’s it? Now I am to leave and fetch this egg for you?”
“Yes,” Anslie said. “Unless you want to see what the inside of Tossyth’s stomach looks like.”
“Hard to argue with that,” Henrik muttered. “So be it. I will return with the egg, hopefully within a week.”
“See that you do,” Anslie said, placing her hands on her hips. “When you return, you may bring your companions. But you and I need to talk.”
“About?” Henrik asked.
“You’ll find out when you return with the egg,” she said. Her voice left no room for negotiation. “Tell me, Henrik the thief. Do you have a temper?”
The question struck Henrik like an arrow. He looked up at the beautiful woman and saw her watching him like a hawk.
“Why would you ask that?” Henrik said.
One corner of her mouth curved upwards in a smile, or more accurately a smirk. “Yes, you do have a temper, don’t you. And you become stronger with anger, right?”
Henrik just stared at her. How did she know about his temper? Sure, he had a reputation back in Selfoss, but this woman was a week’s ride away and lived in a cave. She should have known absolutely nothing about him.
“As I said, we will talk when you return. See that you move with haste, Henrik the thief.” She walked over to stand next to the dragon and placed her hand on the great beast’s neck. “Yes, yes, I know. We’ll see when he returns.” She turned to face Henrik. “If he returns.”
“If you think a band of orcs can stop me, you have a lot to learn,” Henrik said, irritated that she so openly questioned his fighting ability.
Anslie looked at him differently after that. She scanned him from head to boots, the way he would check a new horse before mounting it. After a deep sigh, she turned back to the dragon.
“I suppose. It could be worse, right? The others will find out soon enough. Yes, yes, I know I have to. You don’t need to remind me.”
Henrik groaned. He didn’t have the time nor the inclination to stand there and listen to her talk with a dragon. He simply turned and walked away.
“We’ll be waiting for you, Henrik the thief,” Anslie called out.
Henrik just kept walking. He had orcs to kill.
