Dragon Forged, page 7
part #1 of Blood of the Ancients Series
“What is it, Mother?”
“It is nothing,” she said, her voice low. “Certainly nothing for you to fear.”
“But you went to the Elders before you did anything else. It’s something.”
She smiled tightly. “I shouldn’t keep things from you. I should not. You are a man, after all, and even though you aren’t dragon forged,” she went on, her words hurting even though he knew she didn’t mean them to, “you will be asked to do what you must to protect the village.”
“Protect it from what?”
“From those seeking to steal our firewater.” She sighed. “The Noral village heard of a few others that were attacked. Their supply of firewater stolen. And they fear it is only a matter of time before they come for ours.”
Chapter Seven
Rob waited with the others in the village’s heart, standing among the older women, most of them he knew, mothers of boys he had once been friends with, but had grown distant too. He couldn’t stand too close to the dragon forged. He wasn’t dragon forged, so he wasn’t given that honor, and he was older than the children, so he wasn’t going to stand near them.
Everybody gathered together in the center of the village, waiting to hear what the Elders might say, though Rob already had a strong idea about what would happen.
He was one of the few within the village who already heard what was going on, and he was there mostly to stand with his mother, to understand what was going on better, and to hear what the villagers and the Elders might have to say about it.
But he was worried.
He tried to think otherwise, knowing his new source of firewater might be even more valuable than he had known.
His mother was a few paces to the side, and he overheard her talking with one of the other women. Jemeral’s mother, he realized. She still had the long, blonde hair of her youth, her bronzed skin standing in contrast to Rob’s mother’s pale skin. Both women likely consumed firewater their entire lives, looking nearly as young as they would have in their twenties.
“Are you sure about this, Rebecca?” Jemeral’s mother asked.
She leaned close, and Rob tried to get close enough he could listen in without making a show of it, but he had a feeling his mother knew where he was, and she was disappointed he was trying to get too close.
“Something is moving in from the east. It managed to get past the border. Otherwise, the men would have stopped it.” She kept her voice low, almost conspiratorially. “And there are no dragon forged able to stop the onslaught.”
Jemeral’s mother took in a slow breath. “What are they after?”
“Firewater. They have stolen firewater from each village they came to and left them with nothing.”
“That would weaken them. They wouldn’t be able to send fighters to the border. Who would do such a thing?”
“I don’t think they care, Minerva.”
Jemeral’s mother looked straight ahead. She always wore a serious expression on her face, which matched the formal high-buttoned grey dress she typically wore. “If they come, the only defenses we have are the young dragon forged.”
“I know,” Rob’s mother said. “And they are not completely trained, either. They were not slated to go to the border until later this year. Donarath intended to lead the expedition himself.”
At that, his mother looked up and back at Rob, as if seeing him for the first time. His father had been intending to bring the expedition of the dragon forged?
Rob hadn’t known that.
But that meant… What it meant was that he could have been there. It meant he should have been there. Had he been dragon forged.
“Maybe we can hold out until Donarath leads them back,” Minerva said.
“We can hope,” Rob’s mother said.
A soft gong rang, and the crowd hushed.
They only used the gong for the ceremony, when the young boys could head toward the chalice and given the opportunity to take on firewater. The two Elders present stepped forward.
There would’ve been three, had his father been there, but given that he was still the youngest of the Elders, he led the expedition out to the border.
“We have called the village together to discuss an imminent threat. The women’s circle has brought word of a danger moving our way from the east. This danger is different from the ravenswolves and other creatures we have dealt with. We don’t know enough about them yet, but we intend to. There is no choice. We do not call you here to frighten you. There is no point in doing so. We call you here so that you can know. You must be prepared.” His gaze swept around the gathered villagers before settling on Rob’s mother. “And from what we have heard, they are after our firewater.”
The murmuring built and became a steady rumbling.
Rob caught snippets within it, but he knew better than to speak up or to say anything. Everybody was concerned about why they were after the firewater.
Finally, one of the elderly dragon forged spoke up. His eyes wrinkled, his skin deeply tanned, the way so many dragon forged became as they aged. His hair had gone gray long before.
Eodrin was still a striking figure, even though he had to be well over a hundred. “If they take our firewater, then our young can no longer protect us,” he said.
“That is the concern,” the Elder said. “Which is why we called you here today. We wanted to raise the alarm, but we also want to make preparations. We have heard rumblings, as the women’s circle is not the first to bring word of this.”
Rob looked over at his mother and saw her frowning. She hadn’t known that. He could see just how much it irritated her she had not known. What did it mean that they were keeping it from the women?
“If the threat reaches here, they will take our firewater. They may fight, they may kill, and there may be very little we can do to protect us.”
“Why tell us this, Eodrin?”
The Elder tipped his head. “I tell you so we can prepare. As we must.” He swept his gaze around. “We must be ready for this threat to arrive, but we do not have to give them our firewater. If they come, we will use it.”
Murmuring rose again. Rob pressed forward. The Elder’s words were unexpected.
“What does he mean, use it?” Minerva asked.
Rebecca shrugged. “I had not expected this, but it is reasonable. It’s unusual for them to do something so reasonable without Donarath here to guide them,” she said.
Minerva smiled tightly. “Sometimes they need a woman to guide them,” she said.
“They never liked women guiding them,” Rob’s mother said.
“We will hold a festival. We will permit all of those who are of age, and all who will come of age, to consume firewater,” Evan said.
That elicited even more murmuring. That meant that they were going to give the firewater to younger children.
“And those who have already had a sip, and who could benefit from a strengthening, will be given another opportunity.”
He looked over at the other dragon forged. Gasal. Terend. Arelon. Even Jemeral, who seemed not to need any additional strengthening. They all looked eager.
“But they will be given it for a different purpose. We will ask them to use it to strengthen themselves, to be ready.”
“How long do we have?”
Rob didn’t see who called out the question, but it was a reasonable one. How long did they have? They couldn’t have too long. He couldn’t imagine they would be risking consuming all their firewater without fearing they were running out of time.
“We will do this now.”
People moved in the crowd and Rob realized several of the dragon forged were guiding the children forward. All of the boys nearing seven were shuffled toward the front of the crowd.
Some of them looked so young.
And they would be given the opportunity to take on the firewater.
They would take the first steps toward a dragon forged body.
Normally, Rob would claim it was a waste. They wouldn’t be able to reach any change, certainly not enough to be of much use if they were to face fighting, but that wasn’t what it was about. They were trying to preserve the firewater for the village. Even if these children didn’t see the advantage for several years, it would still stay with the village.
One by one, the children shuffled forward. Rob couldn’t hear the Elder, not nearly well enough to know what they were saying, but he could imagine their words. He didn’t think the words changed all that much from year to year and suspected everything was the same, a promise of power, of taking on the dragon forged body so they could protect their village, serve their people, and honor those who came before them. One by one, the children gasped, stiffened, and moved off to the side. He didn’t have to wonder how many failed. None did.
Rob was the only one to have failed in as long as he could remember. As far as he knew, he was the only one to have failed in as long as anyone remembered.
He moved back, not wanting to draw any attention. The dragon forged moved through the crowd, gathering the younger dragon forged. Boys who had taken a sip even just a year ago moved forward, taking another sip. They formed a line from youngest to oldest, until those who were his own age, boys nearly old enough to serve, reached the front.
Gasal was there, and when he stepped forward, they gave him the cup and he took a long drink. Rob wondered how much of the firewater he could consume, though he doubted it was much. Even a mouthful was too much for most.
When Gasal stiffened, he lingered there for a long moment. Then he trembled and almost fell to his knees.
That fool. He tried to take too much.
Rob knew what would happen. He had seen it happen with others. They would take too much firewater and it would overwhelm their ability to process it and be usefully converted, turning into something more.
Somebody shoved behind Rob, and he staggered, stumbling forward. It was Jemeral.
He hurried off to the side, trying to get out of the way.
“I imagine you wish you could take more,” Jemeral sneered.
Rob looked up at him. “I know my place.”
“I seem to remember somebody venturing outside of the village, searching for something not part of their place.”
Rob bit back any reaction. He wasn’t going to get into a fight with Jemeral, not so close to his mother, and not surrounded by the rest of the village. That served no purpose.
“You’re right,” Rob said.
He felt his mother’s gaze on him, as well as the others in the village weighing on him, as if they were looking at him, trying to decide whether they would look at him with irritation, disgust, or annoyance. Maybe it was all of them. He was a disappointment.
Jemeral shoved Rob again, and he staggered, tripping. When he did, his feet tangled, and he fell to the ground. Something went flying, skidding across the hard stones of the square.
His flask. He knew immediately what it was. Rob had heard it tumble out and had heard the metal as it clanked on the stone. He scrabbled after it, reaching for it.
“What is this?” Jemeral asked, grabbing the flask and holding it up.
“I was my grandfather’s,” Rob said.
It was true. His grandmother had allowed him to take his grandfather’s flask, and he had used it to help her. It seemed fitting to him. Borrowing something from the man she loved and using it to help her.
Jemeral lifted it and shook it. “What’s in it?” he asked.
The eyes of the crowd were on him, and many turned in their direction. Rob needed to head this off before it got out of hand.
“Just hand it back,” Rob said. “If you do, I won’t say anything about the ravenswolf.”
It was the wrong choice of words. As soon as he said it, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized it was a mistake. Jemeral’s face contorted in rage, twisting into a snarl.
“What are you trying to hide here?”
Jemeral unscrewed the cap, shaking it, and sniffed. His eyes widened slightly, and he tipped the flask back and stiffened.
Fire blasted.
When he took a deep breath, his eyes widened again, and he cried out.
“Elder. This one has stolen the firewater preserved for the dragon forged.”
“I haven’t,” Rob said, though he knew better than to argue.
He tried to grab for the flask, wanting to snatch it from Jemeral, but he couldn’t. Jemeral was too large, too strong, and too tall. He held the flask over Rob’s head, keeping him from grabbing for it.
Even if Rob could reach it, what was he going to say? Too many people were standing nearby when Jemeral took a drink. Too many people saw the way he stiffened. Too many people knew.
Elder Evan made his way through the crowd, pushing past others to get close. He was still a tall man, massive from his dragon forging, and radiated the energy and experience of someone in his position. The power radiating off the Elder pressed against Rob. The Elder was as advanced as a dragon forged would ever be within their village. Had he more access to firewater, and more years left ahead of him, it was possible he could one day reach dragon skin.
“What is this?”
Jemeral shot Rob a look before handing the Elder the flask. “This was in his pocket. We found him outside of the village the other day, searching for firewater, but I think he found a different source.”
Jemeral’s gaze drifted to the chalice in the front of the square, toward the dragon head bones, where the chalice normally was filled with firewater.
“I didn’t,” Rob said. “I wouldn’t. I know the consequences. My father—”
The expressions of those around them grew hostile. The mention of his father was a mistake. He knew and shouldn’t have said anything, but he didn’t like the idea of being accused of stealing. This was what he got for not going to the Elders right away.
“I found a source of firewater outside of the village,” Rob said quickly.
“There is no source of such a thing,” Jemeral said.
The Elder held up the flask and shook it. “This would be many weeks, months, even, of harvest.” He frowned as he looked at Rob. “And you have it in this flask.”
“I found it in the wild,” he said. “You must be able to tell the difference.”
“There is no difference between this firewater and that which is found in the wild.” The Elder stared, and there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes.
Rob understood. He was Donarath’s son, the grandson of an Elder, and it looked as if he tried to steal firewater, depriving the dragon forged of their source.
“I didn’t take it,” Rob said again.
He could feel everybody staring at him. The entire village was watching him, angry.
“Mother. You have to believe me.”
She was watching him again. “Why?” she mouthed
“I didn’t take it,” he said. “I can lead you to the source.”
“The source?” Jemeral said as he puffed out his chest. “I can lead us to the source, too. The chalice is right there, so we know where he acquired it.”
Evan looked at Rob. “Do you swear this was from a wild source?”
Rob locked eyes with Evan. “I swear. I can show you. Maybe it can even help the village if they attack us.”
Evan breathed out slowly. “Bring him to the Elder Hall.”
Chapter Eight
They built the Elder Hall out of stone, and ancient in ways so few things within the village were. Dragon bones were built into the stone, having been dug up ages ago, added to the walls, worked into the windows, even woven through the ceiling, giving it an air of power nothing else within the village contained.
None knew if it was the same dragon that fell in the valley, splattering its blood all around and strengthening those who called it home, but most liked to think that it was. Rob sat on a hard, flat wooden bench, twisting his hands, staring at the door, and waiting for one of the Elders to appear.
He should not have held out on them. Rob knew that now. He didn’t even have the flask.
Rob suspected grandmother would get it back. How could she not, especially as it was her husband’s flask, and he doubted any of the village Elders would dare keep the flask from her, but they would drain it of the firewater. Any chance she might have of recovery was gone.
The door opened, and he straightened, waiting for the Elder to enter. It was his mother. She clasped her hands in front of her, and she looked at him with a disapproving stare.
“Your father would be most disappointed in you,” she said, standing at the door but not entering any farther.
Women were generally not allowed inside the Elder Hall. It was a measure of her standing in the village that they even gave her the opportunity. It was a measure of Donarath’s standing in the village that they gave her the opportunity.
Of course, they could say the same about Rob. If he were anybody else, if he were anyone else’s son, he would have been punished far more harshly. At least he had that to be thankful for.
“I was telling the truth,” he said.
“You went looking for firewater?”
Rob breathed out. He couldn’t tell if his mother was still angry or not, and he certainly couldn’t tell if she believed him. At that point, he didn’t know if it even mattered.
“Grandmother’s been failing for a while,” he said. “And I went looking for something that might help her. A way of healing her we haven’t tried.”
“Why firewater?” she asked.
“Because it heals.”
“It changes,” his mother said. “That is very different from healing.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “All I know is that I wasn’t about to watch her continue to dwindle and eventually die. Not if there was something that could be done about it. I know the Elders want to hoard the firewater, but all she needed was a little bit.”
His mother frowned at him, but at least she took a step toward him. “That’s not the way she describes it,” she said.
“You talked to her?”
“Should I not have?”
