Dragonae

By J.L. Crandall

He was a blacksmith and content to be so. Fate and destiny had other plans for Duggal, and so he donned his armor and set out to find the one woman who could wield the ebony axe.  She would not be easy to find, but find her he must, the fate of all was at stake.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Prudence MacLeod
• Release date: Apr 27, 2024
• ISBN: 9798634695877

J.L. Crandall

J.L.Crandall Lives on a windswept island in the North Atlantic ocean where she makes no attempt to tame the imagination that is as wild as the seas that surround her home. Her hobbies are dogs, cooking, and spinning tales.  Enjoy.

Book preview

Raven’s Field

It was the call of the ravens that brought him back.  How long the warrior had stood drawing great heaving breaths into his lungs was unknown to him.  Raising a weary arm, he unhooked the strap then pushed off the helmet, allowing it to fall to the gore bespattered ground at his feet.

Despite the fatigue that tried to hold him still, he straightened up and gazed all around.  As far as he could see, the only living things in this valley, besides himself, were the ravens feasting on the dead.  Thousands lay dead, both of the Southern Legions, and of the king’s army.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as, leaning on his great sword for support, he reached down and scooped up his helmet.  With a visible effort he managed to get the sword into the scabbard that rode at his back.  Only then did he turn around to see the fate of the king.

The king lay dead, along with his two sons, mere paces from where he stood.  They called me the Dragonae, the warrior who cannot be killed, the one man who could protect them, keep them alive.  He paused to gaze at them for a moment.  I guess they were half right. 

He took the fallen king’s sword from his hand and stuck it in the ground, lifted the broken crown and hung it on the pommel, then sadly turned away. 

I wonder, am I truly the only survivor, or could you have managed to save yourself.  Let’s see.  He gave a piercing whistle, which was answered by a bugling call in the distance. 

A smile of delighted relief creased his weary face at that call.  Come to me, my fine bold lad.  He whistled again, then saw the movement as the huge warhorse made its way toward him.

When the horse reached him, he hung his helmet on the pommel, then used the last of his strength to swing into the saddle.  Lucky it is that dragon scale makes light armor, at least for me.  A light touch on the reins set the beast in motion.

He leaned over to pat the horse on the neck.  We’ll go northwest as my brothers did, Stump.  That accursed Empire has already eaten everything to the south and east.  Come, my fierce warrior, let’s go exploring.  There’s no point returning to the palace, the Second Legion out-flanked us.  There’ll be nothing left there but rubble and signs of carted off slaves.  No, it’s the unknown lands of the northwest for us.

The big horse gave a snort of agreement then set out at an easy trot.  As the warrior rode away the camp followers and others moved out of the nearby forest and onto the field to begin looting the bodies or looking for their dead.

A Life Ends, Another Begins

The old woman hissed as she gazed into the dancing flames. 

What is it, Grandmother?  The young farm wife smiled at the old woman, but her smile swiftly faded as she saw the look in the old woman’s eye.

My life will end this night, for I have not the strength to fight or run.  Gurden, take your family out through the caves, for they will come in the night and destroy all.

The farmer sighed and snorted in derision.  Foolish old woman, who will come?  What will they destroy?

The old woman shuffled her feet closer to the fire.  Men on horses, with swords and fire will they come, killing the men and old women, burning the houses, taking the younger women as slaves.

Really?  And how are these marauders going to get through the gates that guard the valley?

One of our own will let them in.  Even now he shoves his blade through the guardsman’s back.  Our chieftain’s longhouse will be sacked, the farms trampled into ruin, ...

Suddenly there was a cry of alarm from the small village.  The farmer leaped to his feet and raced outside while the wife called her two children to her.  They could hear shouts of battle now, and they trembled in fear. 

Eillen, take the children and go, you know the way.

No, Grandmother, we have to wait for Gurden ...

No, child, your man will not survive this night, and neither will I.  You still have time, and you know the way.  Go now, save your children.  Give them a chance at life, Eillen.  Go. 

Reluctantly, she went, urging the children along ahead of her while the shouts and screams of battle grew louder.  Reaching the hidden cave mouth, she hurried the children inside, then turned back, looking for her husband.  She saw him fall and his body get ridden over by a masked man on a horse. 

She screamed and started toward them, but as the rider turned toward that sound, she came to her senses and hid behind a boulder.  Gurden was beyond help now.  Staying low and using the bushes as a screen, Eillen crept back to the mouth of the cave and her children hidden there.

We need to light a torch, said the boy, as they felt their way along in the dark.

Hush, Brayden, make no sound, whispered his mother.  We dare not show a light for them to follow.  Hush now, hold tight to my hand and your sister.

It took a long time to reach the other side of the mountain, but eventually they reached the open air and the cache of food Gurden had insisted they keep there.  He’d always suspected they might need to flee the village one day, but that had been Grandmother’s third warning in four days, and he’d ignored it. 

Sadly, he’d always believed it could happen, so why had he not believed the old woman, everyone in the village knew she had the sight? Ah well, none of that mattered now, they’d escaped with their lives.  She pulled her children close and tried to comfort them.

A week and then another and yet another passed, and the food was gone.  Eillen continued to lead her children south, hoping to reach her sister’s home in a distant kingdom.  Sometimes they spent most of the day hiding as roving bands of marauders were constantly appearing on the roadway.  Eillen knew all too well what her fate, and that of her children, would be if they were discovered.  Slavery would be the best they could hope for.

It was the third day without food, and it was raining slightly.  Hungry and shivering with the cold and damp, she chanced a small fire beneath a sheltering tree. 

As darkness fell they were discovered, a man in midnight dark armor atop a black horse sat watching them from a short distance away.  With a soft whimper of terror, Eillen grabbed her children and fled into the trees.

They didn’t go far because she didn’t want the sound to give them away.  Also, there really wasn’t far she could go, a soaring cliff would soon block their path.  Huddled and shivering in the rain, they watched as the rider entered their small camp and dismounted.

The stranger was covered from head to toe in heavy black armor, yet in spite of it, he moved with the ease of a man wearing only cloth or leathers.  Eillen trembled from fear as well as the cold as she watched him strip off the saddle then unpack camping gear from the pack horse.

Hugging her children close she watched as a piece of waxed canvas was rigged in the tree for shelter, then a bundle of firewood appeared, and the fire was soon built up, crackling cheerily.  Her dread continued to grow as he pulled out a tripod then hung an iron kettle above the fire.

The dark rider disappeared into the gloom carrying a bucket.  The sounds of an axe striking wood reached their ears then he reappeared with water for the kettle and more wood for the fire.  The hunger gnawed at them as he pulled out some roots from the pack, scraped them clean then cut them into small pieces before dropping them into the pot. 

Onion, turnip, and cabbage went in, some carrot as well, and then he unwrapped meat, cut it into small blocks, then added that to the pot as well.  Something else appeared and was added.  Salt, dear gods, he had salt as well.  Eillen nearly groaned from hunger, then the warrior spoke in a deep yet gentle voice.

Come up to the fire.  It’s warm here and I’ve set a shelter from the rain.  Come up and be warmed.

Eillen hushed the children through chattering teeth.  The warrior added another stick to the fire then removed his helmet.  She was behind him and saw the sand-colored hair tumble over the armor as the helmet got tossed over by the saddle.

Stump, you lying horse, there’s no one behind me except forest sprites.  The big horse raised its head from the grass and snorted loudly.  Boy?  There’s no boy behind me.  Why would a boy, strong and brave, hide from the likes of us, eh?  I think you’ve gotten into bad oats again. 

The boy snickered and Eillen hushed him again.  The big man grinned and went on.  You see, Stump, I know boys, and I can tell you this, they’re always hungry.  Now if a real boy was there, he would already be out here sniffing at the cooking pot.  No, it’s a forest sprite all right, not a boy.

I am so a boy, came the tart reply, bringing a wide grin to the man’s face.

I don’t believe you, for you haven’t even come to look in the pot.  A real boy would already be out here by the fire sniffing at the stew.

Eillen grabbed at her son, but she was shaking from the cold, and missed.  She gasped as he ran to the fire and looked into the pot.  Her heart was in her mouth as the man spoke again.  Well I’ll be skinned, Stump, you were right, it is a boy.  What do you think, Boy, will it be fit to eat?

Smells like goat meat, was the answer.

You’ve a good nose, lad, for indeed it is goat meat.  So tell me, young warrior, are you hungry?

I sure am.

Well then, shall we eat by warrior’s rules?

Warrior’s rules?  What are those?

A strong warrior always lets the women folk eat first, then he has his meal.  This will soon be ready, call your women folk out now so they can warm themselves by the fire before we sup.

They won’t come out.  They’re afraid of you.

And they are right to be so, my young friend.  Strangers can often mean trouble and worse on the roads.  However, old Stump there will vouch for me, and as you know, a horse will never lie to you.

Don’t be crazy, horses can’t talk.

Stump can, can’t you Stump?  The horse snorted and went back to grazing.  Enough of this.  Woman, I can hear your teeth chattering from here, and the girl with you must be freezing.  Truly I mean you no harm.  Here.

As he spoke he took the small war axe from his belt and laid it aside and behind him.  Take up the axe and watch me carefully.  If I offer any harm to you and yours, use the axe against me.

Terrified, yet trembling from the cold and fear, Eillen cautiously approached and reached for that ebony axe.  Her hand closed around the haft and she swept it easily into the air, surprised at how light it felt in her hand, moving back and forth with a will of its own.  She was startled to see the look of surprise on his face.

It’s exceptionally light, she said through chattering teeth.

Slowly he nodded then turned back to the fire.  And so it is, keep it close.  All right now, my young warrior, what name do you carry?

I’m Brayden.  Gurden was my father.

Was your father?

He was killed by raiders some days ago.

I’m sorry to hear that.  No boy should lose his father young.  Wear the name he gave you with pride, Brayden, bring honor to it.  There in the pack, a bowl and spoon, a ladle as well; bring them to me, if you please.

The lad swiftly retrieved them.  So, what’s your name? asked Brayden, as he handed over the bowl and spoon.

My mother named me Duggal on the day I was born.  It was her father’s name, and a mighty smith was he.  I apprenticed to him when I was about your age.  Let’s take a look in the pot now, Brayden, see what we have.  I’m not sure if it will be fit to eat, I didn’t recognize some of what I put in there.

No no, it’ll be fine.  I can smell it and it smells good.

The big man chuckled at that.  All right then, Brayden, who eats first, my fine young warrior?

As hungry as the boy was, he got control of it.  Elspeth should eat first.

Oh, why is that?

She’s the smallest and a girl.  Mother should eat next, and then me.

And then you?  What about me?

You’re the biggest.  If you go first there’ll be nothing left for us.  This brought a great bellow of laughter from the warrior while Eillen admonished the boy to be polite and respectful.

No, no, it’s fine, Brayden has the right of it, smiled Duggal as he filled the bowl then passed it to the girl.  He handed over the spoon as well then relaxed back as she ate swiftly.  "Easy girl, easy.  Eat too much too quickly and it will sicken you.  Take your time, go slow.

Now then, my Lady of the Axe, have you a name I might be privileged to use?

Eillen, I’m Eillen, good Sir Duggal.

It’s a rare pleasure to meet you, Lady Eillen.  Duggal turned his attention back to the fire for a few minutes.  Are you finished Elspeth?  Good, pass me the bowl now then curl up by the fire.  Brayden, there are blankets in yonder pack.  Bring them so Elspeth can take her rest.  Now then, Lady Eillen, I doubt this will be as tasteful as you would make, but you’re welcome to as much as you want.  As he spoke, he passed her the refilled bowl and spoon.

She ate slowly, enjoying the stew and allowing the warmth to penetrate her frozen body.  She finished the bowl and he refilled it for her.  Smiling shyly, she thanked him and resumed her meal.  As she finished the second helping, she noticed her son trying to lift the axe she’d laid aside.  Brayden was a strong boy, and that axe should have been easy for him to lift.

Stop fooling about, Brayden.  She passed the now empty bowl to Duggal as she swept the axe easily into the air and laid it across her knees.

The boy was still looking at his mother agog as Duggal got his attention.  Here now, my fine young warrior, your turn to eat hearty.  He passed the now full bowl to the boy who set to it with a will.  Easy, Brayden my lad, easy.  You’ve been a while without food, eat too fast and you’ll sicken.  Take your time.

The boy sat and took another spoonful.  Duggal, why can’t I lift that axe?  Mother makes it look easy.  Is it magic?

"Aye, it is that, and more.  That axe is made of dragon scale from the very beast I myself slew some years past.  All my armor and weapons are made from the scales of that beast.  I made them myself, and then my employer, a powerful mage, enchanted them.  My sword and dagger are as feathers in my hand as is my armor, yet no other can wield them.

The axe was enchanted for another, for he told me on that day the axe would respond to one woman’s hand, one woman only and no other.  It was my task to find her, and now it is done.

Eillen gazed at him open mouthed.  Finally, she swallowed hard then spoke.  That cannot be true.

For an answer he reached for and drew the long two-handed sword to him then laid it on the ground beside her.  Pick it up if you can.  She tried but couldn’t budge the great sword.  She laid aside the axe, then with feet braced and both hands on the sword, she grunted with the effort, but the sword would not rise from the ground.

Puffing from the effort Eillen let go and stood up.  Catching her breath, she bent and swept the axe into the air with ease.  You’re doing that.

Nay, Lady Eillen, I’m not.  I’ve carried that axe with me for seven years.  I’ve made a few successful wagers with men who thought their women folk were strong enough, but who were unable to lift the axe in the end.  Elfred was a mighty mage indeed, and a friend, but a bit of a joker as well.  I’m quite sure he knew nothing of you, or the future, or any destiny.  I’m sure he just enchanted the axe this way on a whim of mischief.

I don’t believe you, Dugall, for I can see there is more to this tale.

She was startled as he suddenly became alert.  Aye, there is more, good lady, but we have not the time left for tales.  Get the children beside that tree now, keep the axe close.  Do not fear, Eillen, I will not be far away.  She watched with wide eyes as he easily swept up the great sword and disappeared into the night.

Eillen hurried her children to the tree then turned to defend them with the axe.  Four men came slinking from the darkness.  Get the woman, we can sell her.  Kill the others.

What about the man?

Man?  I didn’t see a ma ...  He got no further as a long sword was thrust through his body from behind.  The sword withdrew then swept through the air at speed, removing the next man’s head from his shoulders.  The shadowy figure swept the sword back low cutting off the next man’s legs.  The scream of shock and pain was cut short as the backswing removed his head.

One man was left standing.  Come out, he bellowed.  "Come out of the shadows and fight like a