Mab-Kirn and Gaila

By

C.C Hogan

Text Copyright © 2017 C.C. Hogan

All Rights Reserved

To all those who not only wish for freedom, but when they are offered it, grab it with both hands, spread their wings, and fly forever.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 – The Runaways

About the Author

Chapter 1 – The Runaways

“You have to be joking, Kirny!”

“Why?”  The big desert dragon was nothing if not sublimely awkward when on the defensive. It probably came from being around two hundred years older than the stocky, tough, brown-haired daughter of a baron who was currently glaring at him.

“Because if you are not joking, then we are broke.”

“Is that a problem?” Dragons were not known for being especially into coin.

“Well, yes, thickhead.”

“Why?”  Mab-Kirn put his head on one side and shut one golden eye.  He loved his rider more than anyone, but the temptation to wind her up was sometimes just irresistible.

“Because I need clothes, I lost my sword and my best bow up in Categan, and last time I looked, you had run out of paints.”  Gaila sat down on the beach with a thump, pulled her thick pony tail across her shoulder, then lay back on the warm sands and sighed.  “All of which we have to buy, somehow, and I still feel not much stronger than a rabbit.”

“Actually, I’m betting on the rabbit,” the dragon commented.

It had been a long, slow recovery.  The grievous injuries that Gaila had sustained scouting in Categan in the northern states of Preland, had been made worse by infections and a serious chill which had all but killed her.  Mab-Kirn had brought her south to the warmth of Me-Lin Hoe, the birth place of the dragon Fren-Eirol a thousand years before, and left her in the care of the sea dragons in their new village on the cliffs.  Once she had regained a little of her strength, the Draig Morglas had built her a small wooden shack down on the sands where the ancient human village had once stood.  If Gaila and Mab-Kirn shared anything, it was a love of isolation from others, and while Mab-Kirn was still north fighting in the wars, Gaila had wanted to be on her own, choosing to visit the Draig Morglas when she wished rather than live amongst them.  And anyway, these dragons were unused to human company having lived all their lives on the human-free continent of Angyn, and Gaila was in constant fear of being trodden on.

She had been here for a year now and Mab-Kirn had returned for good. Gaila was stronger, if still feeling far from fit, and had just discovered he had lost their bag of coins, probably somewhere in Benline, he reckoned.

“I thought you had coin here,” Mab-Kirn said, sitting on the sand, and scratching his cheek on the corner of the shack.

“A few coins, Kirny, but not much.  No humans around here yet and the dragons don’t use them.”

“What about your dear idiot father?”

“I don’t know,” Gaila said with a groan.  “I have hardly spoken to him and mother since I signed up with Silvi.”  Her father was Baron Gailen de Harney, ruler of Redust and the current occupant of the castle of Slypa Burh on the estuary island in Wead-Wodder two hundred and fifty leagues or so north-east.  “I am sure he would give me what we need, but…”  She closed her eyes.

“But what, dear one?”

“I don’t want to ask.”

“You don’t want to go back to Wead-Wodder, do you?”  Mab-Kirn chuckled.

“Not really.  The army village of Het Seborg is abandoned again, the town is back to its old, smelly self pretty much I reckon and…”

“And what?”

“And I am not the baron’s little daughter any longer.  Not that I ever was, really.  I don’t have a problem with seeing my parents and just asking how they are.  But if I do that, then I will be leaving again as soon as I can.  I can’t bring myself to ask for coin on the way through.  My father is an old git, but he did our family proud in the end; he deserves better than that.”

The big dragon slumped down on the sands, his beautiful face with its distinctive dark-tan band that ran from his horns to his nose, just inches from the young woman.  Mab-Kirn was bigger than most desert dragons and with differently shaped wings.  He was similar to their friend Mab-Intuan and to the great Mab-Onin who had died centuries before of the disease that had killed so many dragons.  Like them, he was faster than any other desert dragon, which made him probably about the fastest dragon on Dirt if he discounted the unusually small and fast Draig Mynyth Coh Be-Alene.

“I saw Intuan on the way down,” he said.

“And what did Sir Dragon want?” Gaila asked.  Mab-Intuan had been called Sir Dragon by the Heinela knight Sir Tannon in the old wars five hundred years back, and he had kept the name ever since as a mark of respect for the well-loved knight.

“He wanted to know if anyone would be especially upset if he accidently dropped Mistry on their next flight.”

“Are those two arguing again?” Gaila asked, laughing.

“Well, in their own sweet way.  They try desperately to be the incredible young and wonderful dragon and rider pairing, but they are both over five hundred years old and it occasionally shows.”  He grinned.  “But he did ask me what you and I were going to do now.”

“What did you tell him?”

“What could I?  I don’t really know.  Sir Dragon said that it might be worth our while checking on Orlen Varlakel in the Northern Wastes.  Be nice to see the ice dragons.”

“I like it up there,” Gaila said.  “Cold though.”

“Up for it?”  The Draig yr Anialr raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Can we do it in bits?  I am not sure I am ready for a mad flight the entire length of Preland.  It must be pushing on six hundred leagues up to Payen Berg from here.  I assume you want to go to the Geimot market.”

“Varlakel is always based there this time of year.  Alright, you get yourself sorted and I will go tell the sea dragons we are off.”  The dragon looked out over the sea.  “Did you like living here?”

Gaila nodded.  “Yes, I did. It was a good idea of yours. Very quiet and I have done a lot of thinking.  But a year is a long time, my friend. Too long in one place for you and me.”  She stood, brushed the sand from her peasant clothes, and went into the old shack to change into riding leathers and pack her very few belongings.

From the air, the market outside the town walls of Car-Vennan, the capital town of the kingdom of Arendon, was a noisy, confused ants nest, busy with buyers and sellers from across the region. This south-eastern corner of the continent of Preland was a sparsely populated, dry land.  But it was mostly low-lying with only one range of small mountains, and travelling was relatively easy.

“According to Ferret, this market attracts traders from all around the region,” Mab-Kirn shouted over his shoulder.  “People travel from Cartenor, Ordor, Warril and Prevendil to buy and sell here.”

“The De-Enset Firen don’t like it,” Gaila pointed out.  They had detoured to the Prennor Hills and visited the tribes that had done so much to help in the war, supplying the Preland Defence Force with countless horses and riders.

“They probably have a point,” the dragon said.  “King Mael of Arendon is not exactly the nicest of people by all accounts and he thinks the tribes are savages.”

Gaila was feeling stronger today.  The first two flights had left her exhausted and they had rested a for a few days with the De-Enset Firen tribes. She had gone running through the Prennor Hills with a girl called Fellan-jo.  It had helped her to loosen up and shake free the stiffness of her long illness.

“I can probably land in that gap down there,” Mab-Kirn said, pointing down to a large space near the middle of the market.  “As long as I don’t flap around too much, I shouldn’t flatten anything.”

“What, a baby dragon like you?”  Gaila fidgeted forwards and looked down over his shoulder.  “You mean that gap that just happens to be next to someone selling barrels of beer?”

“Really?” Mab-Kirn said innocently.  “Well, I have the few coins the chief paid me for rounding up those strays and delivering the hides up to Lon, so I fancy a barrel.  I will let you have a sip.”

“Such a generous little draig.  Go on then.”

To say they nearly brought the market to a halt when they landed was an understatement.  Although dragons were now returning to Preland, it was a huge continent and most places hadn’t seen dragons at all, including the market people of Car-Vennan, apparently.  Mab-Kirn was impressed at the speed the three town guards rushed into the market and pointed their spears at him, and he smiled warmly.

“Afternoon,” he said cheerfully, looking down on them. He was three times their height, and he wasn’t even standing straight.  “Not planning to stop for long.  Just need a few things.”

“Who are you?” the guard with the most stripes demanded to know.

“Mab-Kirn is the name,” the dragon said with a small bow of his head.  “And the girl on my back aiming her arrows at you is Gaila de Harney from Redust; probably the finest archer in the Preland Defence Force.”

“What are you up to, dragon?” Gaila hissed, quickly nocking an arrow on her old short bow and aiming at the guards.

“Just clearing the air,” her friend said.  “So, gentlemen, any chance we could get on with buying the bits we need?”

“I must report to my commander,” the man with the stripes snapped officiously.  “Please stay here.”

“Oh, alright then.”  Mab-Kirn looked a little put out.  “Can I buy one of these small barrels of beer while I wait?”

“You drink beer?”

“You don’t?  Going by the pleasant wheaty odour, you’re missing out, mate.  Still, no accounting for taste.  Go on then, go report or whatever.”

The man with the stripes marched off as officiously as he spoke, leaving the other two guards uncertain what to do.  Mab-Kirn looked at them with sympathy.

“Tell you what, why don’t you tell the nice people crowding around to go back about their business and then join me for a beer?”

The guards hesitated for a moment and then one looked over to the beer stall.  The trader tapped one of the barrels encouragingly; traders will never argue with someone willing to spend coin.  After a moment more of deep thought, the guard whispered to his fellow and they started shooing people away back into the market.

“You are a right charmer, Kirny,” Gaila said, slipping down from the dragon’s back, and stretching.  He chucked her a purse.

“I might be, but I am not sure how long I’ll get away with it.  Depends who that other guard brings back with him.  Do you want to do the shopping while I charm the beer out of one of these barrels?”

Gaila laughed.  “Alright, Mr Dragon.  Are you sure you’re fine for brushes?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, but if you see anyone selling horses, see if you can get some hair clippings so I can make up some more.  Other than that, just whatever pigments you can grab that I can make paint from.  Oh, and some flax oil.”

“Will do.  I need a new hat and a thicker coat if we are going up north, but that might have to wait till we get there.  See yer.”  Gaila trotted off into the crowd and Mab-Kirn turned to the beer seller with a big, ever-so-charming smile.

Being brought up in Wead-Wodder, a major trading port on the coast of the Yonder Sea, and never one to do as her father ordered and stay in the castle, Gaila had spent a lot of time at the busy market at The Hive or the quieter Mace Market in the north of the town.  The market at Car-Vennan was much bigger as it was not restricted to local goods for the town people but was also an exchange for major traders in the region, and it didn’t take her long to work out she was lost.  Not completely, of course. She could see the town walls, and Mab-Kirn would only need to stand straight and she would see his head far above the stalls, but there seemed little logic to how the market was laid out, let alone any clue as to where she would find what she needed.

“Want your fortune told, love?”

The old lady made Gaila jump, and she turned around in surprise.

“Er, not really.  I am looking for pigments and some travelling clothes.”

The woman put a soft hand on Gaila’s arm.  “Are you sure love? Are you not looking for something else?”  The woman had a strong, Western accent, very much at odds to others at the market.

“I don’t know what you mean.”  Gaila pulled her arm away nervously and started to walk away.  “Excuse me.”

“Such a high-born girl in such a lowly market,” the woman called out.  Gaila stopped.

“What?”

“You are searching for something, girl, and it is something very hard to find.”

Gaila walked back and looked carefully at the old woman. Working with Ferret, the five hundred-year-old Ancient who looked just twenty, and having met many of the centuries-old healers that had helped the people in the Northern States of Preland, she had learned to recognise the one thing all these long-lived people had in common; the eyes.  She took the woman’s hand and looked into her face.

“Are you a healer, mother?” she asked.  The woman started in surprise.

“No, dear.  I am not.”

“An Ancient?”

“Nor am I that.”

“Not a fortune teller, I imagine,” Gaila said quietly.

“No one can see the future, dear, though many wish some of us could. But sometimes you can get a sense of someone’s life, and if you live and learn long enough, you can see where that may take them.”

“And what do you see for me?”

“I see loneliness, dear,” the woman said, sadness in her eyes.  “But I see also that being apart is something you wish.”  She looked up and stroked Gaila’s face.  “Is that really the fate you strive for?  You and your Draig yr Anialr friend?”

“You recognise what he is?” Gaila asked.

The old woman just nodded and smiled, and Gaila could see a warm, ancient memory in her eyes.

“Yes, it is what we strive for.  Will it bring us unhappiness, mother?  Will I be lonely?”

“It may.”  The old woman wrinkled her nose.  “But it may not.  In most people’s lives, their happiness is built from the strength of all those around them.  If there is only two of you, then you will have to give every ounce of strength you have to each other, or it will not be enough.”  The woman paused and smiled.  “You can buy pigments up the lane there and there is a stall opposite that sells very good dried beans.”

“How did you know I needed beans?” Gaila asked, laughing.

“Riders always need beans.  Always did, always will.  For as long as they do, then this old world of Dirt has hope, girl.”

Gaila turned to look where the old woman had pointed, and when she turned back, she had gone.

Gaila had left her soft rider’s bag with Mab-Kirn, and she cursed herself as she staggered up behind the dragon and dumped her armfuls of supplies on the ground, her new hat slipping down over her eyes.  The desert dragon loved painting and had spent some of his youth on Angyn living with sky dragons, Draig Awyr, who were often artists and writers.  But he hadn’t had much time to paint during the war and all his paints had dried out. Gaila had picked up every pigment she could find, plus horsehair, clothing, food and even a new longbow.  Of course, taking into account the barrel of beer that the dragon had no doubt bought as his equivalent of a flagon for a human, they were now broke again.  But at least they were up and flapping, as it were.

“This is Lady Gaila de Harney, captain,” the dragon said, grabbing a surprised Gaila by the top of her head and walking her around to face a tall, thin, soldier.

“Lady de Harney,” the captain said formally, bowing.

“Please, I don’t use a title,” Gaila said, glaring up at the tall desert dragon.  “Just Gaila, these days.”  She noticed there were now a few more soldiers, and frowned.  “I am sorry we invaded your market, captain,” she said.  “Are we in trouble?”

“No, you are fine,” the captain said with a small smile.  “I have met dragons once before a couple of years ago when your army came looking for horses.  Though I am not sure we left them with the best impression of our kingdom.”  He waved as if to brush away an awkward memory.

“Captain Sevile here says he has a job for us if we want it,” Mab-Kirn said.  “A bit of scouting.  Interested?”

Gaila nodded, though she was a touch suspicious of what the job might entail.  Although Hornan Liander up in Kend was working hard to persuade countries to move away from autocratic rule and feudalism, most had not shifted their stance one iota, and their rulers were people that neither she nor any dragon would want to deal with.  She frowned at the captain.

“I have seen that expression before,” Sevile said with a sigh.  “A young woman called Ferret was most judgemental of our kingdom and the way it is run.  Perhaps she had good reason.  However, the job I have is something that should not cause you too many issues.”

“What is it?” Gaila asked.  She had noticed that the captain’s soldiers had cleared an area around them and there was no one to overhear the conversation.

“Princess Fegerra, the king’s youngest child, has been a problematic girl,” the captain said.  “You would probably approve of her opinions as she has no time for monarchy, her father, or the hierarchy of rank that goes with her position.  She has been a wayward child, and when she was younger, often escaped the castle in the town and hid in a temple ruin in the woods to the east, talking to the ancient statues there.  In the last year, she has built a friendship with a young serving girl called Welena Forn. The serving girl lost her mother last year and Princess Fegerra befriended her.  Now the two have run away together.”

Gaila looked at the captain who seemed quite distressed.  “You are concerned for them?”

“Fegerra, despite her strong opinions, is only fifteen and very innocent of this world.  We believe that the two girls have headed north up the River Born.  Welena’s mother was from the borderlands near the country of Prevendil and has family there.  It is an ungoverned region and dangerous for most travellers, let alone two young girls on their own.”

“If you know where they have gone, why have you not chased after them?” Mab-Kirn asked.

“Princess Fegerra often locks herself in her room when she argues with her father, sometimes for days on end, and no one knew she was missing.  She is a very good horsewoman and they have taken horses from the stables.  They are far ahead of our search parties.”

“So, you want us to go chasing after them and bring them back?” Gaila asked.

“Return the Princess only,” the captain said.  “The king will not act kindly to the serving girl and it would be better if she were left to travel on to her family.”  The captain looked at the ground.

“The serving girl is well known to you?” asked the large dragon gently, towering over the captain.

“My wife and I have looked after her from time to time over the years,” the captain admitted.  “She is a nice, gentle girl.  I would not see her punished for following the orders of the Princess.”

“And what would we get out of this adventure?” Gaila asked.  “You are right, Arendon is not well thought of by our leaders.  I believe your king refused to help with the famine in the north.”

The captain shrugged; this was a political matter beyond his influence.  “The king has offered two hundred coins for the return of the Princess.  Find her and it is yours, as simple as that.  To be honest, if you cannot find her, it may be that she will not be found anywhere, but I fear the king will take his revenge on Welena’s family in the north if that is the case.”  He produced a map from his bag.  “I have marked the river trail on here and the village of Shevvan where the family live.  They won’t have reached there yet.  It is a hard road and the travelling is slow.  The Princess knows horses and she will not push them harder than needed, but Welena has never ridden before. Will you help?”

“Can you give us a moment?” Gaila asked.

“Of course.”  The captain waved to his soldiers and they walked over to the beer stall.

“Well?” Gaila asked Mab-Kirn.

“Sounds simple enough,” the dragon said.  “Looking at that map, it’s about thirty leagues to the border.  If he is right and the girls have not reached there yet, we could fly up in a couple of hours and slowly make our way back until we find them.”

“I don’t like the idea of abandoning the serving girl,” Gaila said.  “And something about this sounds off; I am not sure we are being told everything.”

“I trust your judgement on that,” Mab-Kirn said.  “I really do fail dismally when it comes to spotting deceit in humans.”  He chuckled, and Gaila touched his face.

“I know you do,” she said.  “But I would hate it if dragons ever learn to lie.  Your honesty is what makes you all so special.  Alright, let’s do this.  But if we find them, we take the serving girl to her family first.  I am betting the captain has no idea how fast you really are, dear one.”

The dragon looked suddenly thoughtful.

“What is it?” Gaila asked.

“Sorry.  Just working out how much beer I can buy with two hundred coins.”

“It’s a very small village, you know.”

“Huh?”  Gaila woke up with a start, turned over and wriggled up the dragon’s neck.

“Were you sleeping up there?” Mab-Kirn complained.  “I have been flapping really hard here!”

“And really high, thickhead!  I was close to passing out.”

“Oh.  Sorry.  Anyway, as I was saying, that village is really small.”

Gaila looked down.  “Drop lower; my eyesight is nothing like yours.”

Mab-Kirn spiralled down slowly, doing his best to look like a hunting bird.  Although he was about the same size as several large draught horses plus wings, his shape when flying really did resemble an eagle.  As long as he kept high enough and looked small enough, he would be ignored.  Of course, it went wrong if he flew too low.

“Oops, they’ve spotted me,” he muttered.

“Bloody idiot,” Gaila said with a tired sigh.  “Alright, we better land, just in case the girls are here already.”

Mab-Kirn landed a little way from the village and Gaila trotted in on her own.  It would take years, possibly generations, before all the humans across Dirt accepted the dragons again, she knew that, and it seemed pointless to force the issue on people.  Dragons like Mab-Kirn were impressively big and powerful, and though beautiful, especially when seen in the air, she could understand that many found them simply frightening.

“Hello!” she called out, slowing down to a walk as she reached the small village.  It was like many across the south of Preland; a few single-story buildings set out in a circle with shared barns and livestock pens.  Very simple and terribly poor.  A large man approached her, swinging his pick over his shoulder.

“What is that?” he asked in a harsh, unfriendly tone, nodding at the distant dragon.

“A Draig yr Anialr, a desert dragon.  He won’t hurt you.”

“You keep it under control, then?”

“He is not a horse,” Gaila said, patiently.  “He is intelligent like you and me, and speaks.  He is his own person and my friend, not my servant.”

The man looked unconvinced.  “What you be doing here, then?”

“Is this Shevvan?”

“It be.  What is that to you?”

“I am looking for the family of Welena Forn.”

“Why you be doing that?”

“She has run away from the castle in Car-Vennan and her people there are worried for her.  They believe she is heading here.”

“I can’t think that King Mael would be worried about none like us.  We is just something he wipes of his hunting boots,” the big man said with bitterness.

“I haven’t met him,” Gaila said.  “I have been approached by a captain at the castle.  He and his wife are fond of the girl.”

“Hmm.”

The big man shifted his pick onto his other shoulder and Gaila tensed.  Before she had been wounded, she could have taken this man without trouble, but she was much less fit now and terribly out of practice.

“I am Gart Forn, her uncle,” the big man said.  “We haven’t seen her for several years.  My sister died a year back, but we only heard about that a month ago from a trader friend.  You say she is coming here?”

“That is what we think,” Gaila said.  “She isn’t on her own and is with another girl.”

Gart looked at her suspiciously.  “People don’t worry themselves about people like us, girl,” he said.  “So forgive me for questioning what you say, but I reckon your main worry is with the other girl and not with our Welena.  Am I right?”

“That is true of the people that have hired us, sir,” Gaila said, looking the man in the eye.  “But not of me or Mab-Kirn.”  She pointed back at the dragon with her longbow, making sure Gart saw that it was strung and ready.  “If we find them, we will bring Welena here to you.”

“Thank you, girl,” the big man said.   “Thank him too,” he added, pointing at the dragon.  He nodded and returned to the village, and with a powerful blow, buried the head of his pick into the ditch he was digging.

“Not here yet, Kirny,” Gaila said, returning to where Mab-Kirn waited.  “They are very suspicious, though I can hardly blame them.  How do want to do this?”

“Slowly, unfortunately, kid,” the two-hundred-year-old dragon said to the young woman.  “It is going to be too easy to miss them, and we have no guarantee that they stuck to the road.”  He looked down the trail.  “A lot of it is open land, which will help, but I did pass several forests while you were snoring your head off.”

“The captain said that Welena is no rider, so they will be walking the horses for most of it, I would think,” Gaila said.  “But they should be more than halfway here.”

“Unless they had any bother on the road,” the dragon pointed out.

Gaila sighed.  “I hope not, dragon.  He said it was ungoverned up here, but to be honest, the roads are not safe anywhere in Preland.  Come on.  We have a couple of hours to sunset.  Let’s get started.”

Two days later and Mab-Kirn was worried.  They had scoured the road and some distance from it and there was not a sign of the two young girls.  It was not as if they did not know what they were doing.  When Gaila had first joined up with Silvi and Hal’s tiny army in the abandoned village of Het Seborg, she had quickly shown herself to be a quick learner and an excellent archer.  The desert dragon Be-Elin had paired her with Mab-Kirn and the two had bonded immediately.  They had transferred to Mistry’s elite scouting company and had been amongst the best scouts in the army.  If anyone could find two missing girls and their horses, they could.

“They must have left the road,” Mab-Kirn said.  “The river bends dramatically ten leagues down from here.  They could have tried to cut the corner off, but it takes them through the hills.”

“Girt said that he doubted Welena knows the country around here at all when I checked at the village yesterday.  She spent nearly all her life in the castle.”

“Get back on,” Mab-Kirn said.  “I am going to assume they did something stupid and I need you to tell me what.”

“Why me?” Gaila asked.

“Because you are human, and whatever stupid thing they did would be different from what a dragon would do when being stupid.  I fly, in case you didn’t notice.  I always have a birds-eye view of where I am.”

Mab-Kirn had a theory.  Halfway between Car-Vennan and Shevvan, the River Born snaked through a broad range of dry hills and at one point a fairly deep gorge.  If the girls had been uncertain about travelling that way and if perhaps there was another path that looked better, would they have been tempted to use it?  He, of course, would fly up into the air before making any such decision, but horses don’t have wings. He glided down to the river at the southern end of the gorge and Gaila slipped off his back.

“Well?” he asked.

“I sort of see what you mean, Kirny,” the young woman said.  “But I can’t see any other way through.”

“Let’s travel into the gorge a little way,” the dragon suggested.  “I’ll fly very low and you shout if you see anything that might be another path or road or something.”

For the next two hours, they made their way along the river, sometimes gliding, sometimes walking, trying to think of where two young girls, only fifteen years of age and far from worldly wise, might have gone.  And then, Gaila spotted it, but it was not what they wanted to find.

“Kirny, that’s a horse!”

The dragon landed and Gaila ran over to the body of the horse lying by a rock.

“Do you think it’s theirs?” Mab-Kirn asked, following her, and turning his nose up at the stink.

“Oh, yes,” Gaila said.  “Look at the quality of the tack and the saddle.  That is like I had back at Slypa Burh.  Very expensive.  But no sign of them.  What happened?”

“Move back a bit,” the dragon said.  He reached out with one of his taloned feet and rolled the horse over, blinking away the flies that rose from the corpse.

“Oh, no!” Gaila said with a groan.  “Kirny, they’re in trouble.”  She bent down and pulled two arrows from the horse’s flank.

“Bandits?” Mab-Kirn asked, standing up tall and looking around.

“Probably,” Gaila said, examining the poorly made arrows.  She moved away from the horse, studying the dusty road.  “Hey, look over here.  Tracks, heading up through the woods.”

“How many?” the dragon asked.

“Six or seven horses I reckon.”  Gaila took her longbow off her back without thinking and strung it up.  “Can you follow their trail?” she asked.  “Going by the horse, it’s a couple of days old.”

“I can try.” The dragon passed Gaila her quiver and two long rider’s knives.  “You start on foot and I will see what I can find.  I will grab you if I have something.”  Without another word, he leapt into the air, growling.

When dragons and riders fly together, they almost become one creature.  But the dragon can never forget a rider is on their back, and they must fly in such a way so when they turn the rider is pinned to their back, not thrown off; they never strap themselves on.  This limits the dragon in flight, and when Mab-Kirn wanted to have complete freedom, to be able to twist and turn quickly, Gaila stayed on the ground.

Gaila could hear the dragon passing back and forth over the trees as she ran through the wood, following the trail.  They had scouted like this before.  Staying on the ground meant she was less likely to miss anything, while Mab-Kirn would be able to remember every twist and turn he spied from the air.  Dragons, all dragons, had the navigational abilities of homing pigeons and incredible memories for geography.  They almost never got lost.

Three hours later and Gaila sat down on a rise, trying to get her breath back.  Mab-Kirn landed and stroked her head.

“Are you alright?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“I am so unfit, Kirny.  If we are going up north to work with Orlen Varlakel, I need to train a bit first.”

“Stop at Kend on the way up?  Sovan can put you in with the trainees for a bit.”

She looked up at him.  “Not a bad idea.  But we need to find these girls first.”

“Back on my back then,” Mab-Kirn said, lowering himself down.  “No more trees, so you don’t need to be down on the ground.  The trail looks like it’s heading east.”

“Land!” Gaila hissed.  The sun was low in the sky and they were close to giving up.  The dragon dropped down quietly and landed between some huge boulders.

“What did you see?” he asked.

“Caves; just over the rise.  And I think someone was lighting a fire.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I will scout first,” Gaila said.  “And quickly before it gets darker.  You wait here and dig me out more arrows.”

“Okay.  Careful, girl.”

“I will be, dragon-boy.”

Gaila slipped down off the dragon’s shoulder and quietly made her way down through the rocks towards the caves, leaving Mab-Kirn to sort out their weapons and cut himself some long spears.

The caves were at the bottom of a small ravine and were really nothing more than openings below a sandy-white, rocky overhang.  Gaila hid behind a couple of small, stunted trees, watching carefully.  A fire was burning in front of the caves and two men were roasting some sad, skinny hares on a spit.  Whoever they were, if they were bandits, they were hardly draped in riches, she thought.

“They have stopped crying at last,” one of the men said.

“Good.  Tomorrow we have some fun,” the other man said, laughing.  “Fino will be pleased, I hope.”

“He better be!”  The first man put his hand to his face.  “She had sharp nails!”

“Simpleton, you are.  You should learn to keep your face away from tarts till they’re tamed.”

The second man turned one of the hares.  “This will take a while.  You better get them some water.  We don’t need to feed them, but Fino will skin us if they die of thirst.”

“Alright.  I will check on the horses first.”

The man walked down the ravine and Gaila followed him.  She had to find out how many were here, and counting horses was as good a way as any.  The man walked quite a distance until he reached a meagre stream.  Tied up were six horses, one with the same high-quality tack as the dead animal they had found.  That meant there were possibly five bandits here which was a lot for them to tackle without harming the young girls.  Of course, it would be easier if there were just four.  Gaila nocked an arrow and took aim.

“Kirny,” she called quietly, scrambling over the boulders to their hiding place.

“Well?”

“Four bandits I reckon.  The caves are only shallow, but I couldn’t see the girls.  We’ll have to draw them out as there is no way I can cope on my own and you are too big to squeeze in.”

“When?”

“Now.  They are waiting for others to join them in the morning.  I have no idea how many are coming and can’t risk it being twenty or something.”

Mab-Kirn looked up into the sky.

“Give it an hour till it’s properly dark, rider.  If I just land down there, they will bolt into a cave and we are stuffed.  But if they don’t know I am there, we can draw them out.”

“How?” Gaila asked.  “If I fire arrows into the cave we have the same problem.”

“My voice isn’t that deep,” Mab-Kirn said.  “If it’s dark and we are quiet, they will probably think I am just some bloke.”  The dragon grinned.

Three bandits were sitting by the fire when Gaila simply walked up to them.

“Hey,” she said.  “You got some of that hare you can spare.  I am right starving!”

“What?”  The bandits jumped to their feet, drawing their swords.

“Whoa!”  Gaila stepped back.  “We just wanted something to eat, not a fight, for the gods!”

“You and who?” one of the bandits asked.

“Her and me!” someone shouted from the darkness.  “I am just taking a pee over here.”

Gaila fought the temptation to laugh.  The bandits looked into the gloom warily.

“Just the two of you?” another asked.

“Yeah, just us,” Gaila said.  “We’ve been hiking up the river road and took a shortcut.  Got ourselves a bit lost, I think.”

“You have at that,” one of the bandits said, smiling at Gaila.

Gaila always felt she was on the plain side, but she thought she was probably a good enough catch for these lowlifes.

“So, just you and your man,” said a heavily built thug with a large moustache.  “Hey, Corfen,” he shouted towards the largest cave.  “Got some guests out here. Come and welcome them.”

A very tall, muscular man emerged from the cave.  He was wearing a long robe and carrying a very powerful longbow, an arrow nocked and aimed at Gaila.  Sten-Ged; Archer of God.  Gaila cursed.  These religious fanatics of the True Path had mostly been killed or taken to Bind, but there were still some around causing problems.

“Kirny, now!”

The roar that came from the sky above made all four men look up.  Mab-Kirn dropped down Gaila’s longbow as the True Path archer growled in anger and loosed his arrow straight upwards, nocking a second arrow at an incredible speed and firing again.  Gaila jumped to the side, grabbing her bow, and rolled behind the trees.  Two of the bandits charged her, pulling their short swords, and yelling in anger.  Gaila loosed her first arrow, taking one bandit in the shoulder, then nocked a second, but she had run out of time and the big, moustached bandit barrelled into her.

“Desert dragon!” the Sten-Ged shouted into the dark sky.  “Abomination!”

He continued to fire blindly into the air as the roar of the dragon bounced off the ravine walls.  Mab-Kirn was flying back and forth, drawing the archer’s fire.

“Kirny!” Gaila shouted.  “Need help here.”  The big bandit had pushed her down onto her back and she was wrestling him for his knife.

“Bugger it!” the dragon yelled back.  “This bloke is keeping me busy!”

“Really need help!”

Suddenly it went quiet.  The bandit had Gaila pinned down and was holding his knife to her throat.  The Sten-Ged nocked another arrow and stared up into the dark, turning slowly.

“Where are you, demon-spawn?” he growled.  “Afraid of my arrows?  I will send you back to hell!”

Gaila really wished she had not chosen that moment to look over at the True Path archer.  For at that very second, out from the night, fell one huge, big boulder, and landed right on top of him.

“Gods!” the bandit holding Gaila cried, which is all she needed.

The dragon rider rolled sideways, grabbed an arrow from her quiver and shoved upwards.  The bandit’s eyes shot open wide, then he fell sideways and went limp.  Gaila leapt to her feet, grabbing up her longbow and looking around wildly.

“Kirny, we have one bandit missing.”

The dragon landed with a crash, holding a spear in his hand.

“Where did he go?” the dragon asked.

“I don’t know. I was a bit occupied!”

Out from the cave came a cry and they span around.

“He must be inside with the girls,” Mab-Kirn said, peering into the gloom.

“Damn!” Gaila said.  “I can’t see in.  It’s too dark.”

Mab-Kirn looked around quickly, then leaned over and broke a big, dead branch from one of the trees and shoved it into the fire.

“Well, let’s add some light then,” he said, and taking the flaming branch, threw it into the cave.  The branch flared up just enough to light up the scene, and before the dragon could act, an arrow brushed past his ear, flew into the cave, and straight into the bandit.

“That was a bit close, girl,” Mab-Kirn said, rubbing his stinging ear, and looking back at the rider.  Are you sure there were only four?”

“I hope so.”  Gaila nocked another arrow and approached the cave cautiously.  “Welena?  Fegerra?” she called.  “Are you alright?”

“Who are you?” one of the girls cried out, her voice shaking with fear.

“Captain Sevile sent us,” Gaila answered.  “My name is Gaila and I am a dragon rider.”  She nodded at Mab-Kirn who backed away from the cave, but stayed in the light of the fire.  “I’m coming in, alright?”

“I don’t know!” the girl cried back.

“How many bandits were there?” Gaila called, entering the cave.

“Six.”

“Six?  Oh, what?  Kirny, there’s another one somewhere!”

From the other side of the fire came a sickening crunch and Gaila winced.

“No there isn’t,” Mab-Kirn replied.  “Where is number five?”

“Down by the horses,” Gaila called out.  “I got him earlier.”

“Alright.  Nice to know these things.  Just saying.”

“Fegerra, Welena, you are safe now,” Gaila said, lowering her bow, and entering the cave.  The two girls were standing in the middle of the cave tied together, battered and bruised, their clothes torn. Gaila pulled her knife and cut their bonds.  “Are you alright?”

“No!” one of the girls said, and fell to her knees.

“It’s alright, Fegerra,” the other girl said, crouching down by her friend, and holding her tightly.  “We are safe now.”

“I have to take you back, Fegerra,” Gaila insisted.  They had returned to the river and Gaila had built a fire and made the girls comfortable under a tree.  They were both starving, not just because the bandits had not fed them, but they had accidently dropped their small bag of food into the river a couple of days earlier.

“I don’t want to go!” the girl insisted.  “I don’t want to go back there.  Welena is my sister now.  That is what we decided.  Neither of us had friends in that castle, and even with Captain Sevile and his wife being kind to us, we were so lonely.  But there is no way my father will allow me to have Welena as a friend.”

Gaila sighed and ran her hand through her hair.  “You have no choice, Fegerra.  If you go back, Captain Sevile will call off the search parties.  If you don’t, he is worried that your father will take soldiers to Shevvan.”

The girl put her head in her hands.

“Why does he do this to me?  Why can’t he just let me be me?”

“I don’t know, Fegerra,” Gaila said.  “But you know, things do change.  You are fifteen and nothing stays the same forever.  You must go back, for the sake of your friend and her family you must, but that does not mean you will never see her again.”

“What is your father like, Gaila?” Fegerra asked.

“He used to be an idiot,” Gaila said.  “Spent all his time hunting with his friends or drinking and playing and really not paying attention to the people of Redust.  But then the war came and he changed.  I couldn’t believe it.  My stupid idiot father started worrying about not just his own family and castle, but about the people too.”  She chuckled.  “He can still be a fool, but at least he is a caring fool now.”

The girl shook her head.  “I know I have to go back, but my father will never be like yours.  You don’t know him.”  She walked over to Welena and the girls cuddled up beside the fire and fell asleep.

“So, you have found her.”  King Mael sat on his horse outside the east gate of Car-Vennan surrounded by his personal guard.  “Where is that tart of a serving girl?”

Gaila stared at him.  “She wasn’t there.  The bandits had already taken her away.”

Mab-Kirn was standing a little way away, leaving Gaila to deal with the king and spin their lies, something he was so very bad at doing.

“Good,” the king said.  “That solves two problems then.”  He nodded over to Captain Sevile.  “Take her back to her rooms, Sevile.”

The captain led Fegerra through the gate into the town.  The girl looked back at Gaila with forlorn eyes, and the rider’s heart nearly broke.  King Mael took a purse from his belt and threw it to Gaila.

“As agreed,” he said.  “It was a good investment.  I have decided to marry her off to Duke Tarke from Ordor.  That will earn me the coin back in trade within a week.  She will be his problem then.”  He turned his horse and rode back into the town, followed by his guards.

Gaila swore and spat at the ground.

“I heard,” Mab-Kirn said, walking up.  Dragons have better hearing than humans which most people do not realise.  “We had no choice, girl.”

“I know, but I wish we did.”

“Do you want to go?  Head up to Kend?”

“I suppose.”

Gaila climbed up onto the desert dragon’s back and he leapt into the air, heading into the sky.  It had been a dull, overcast day, and he punched through the clouds into the sunlight above and took a long breath.

“You know, if I was her, I wouldn’t stay,” Gaila said.  “I would get out of there again.”

“Do you think she will?”

“She might.  But she is going to be watched.  And this time she’ll be on her own.”

Gaila sat quietly on the dragon’s back.  When they had dropped Welena at her village, the two girls had clung to each other and sobbed till they were nearly breathless.  There was no doubting the love between them was as strong as any blood-sisters.  Had they really done the right thing?  Gaila feared what the fate of the girl would be now she was back in her father’s castle.  But the coldness of King Mael left her in no doubt that had they not spun their lie, he would have hunted for the girls north and probably have wiped the village of Shevvan off the map.  Gaila looked up and frowned.

“Kirny?”

“Yes?”

“You are flying in circles.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t think you really wanted to go yet.”  He paused.  “Nor do I.”

Gaila fidgeted and leant down, wrapping her arms around the dragon’s powerful neck.

“Do you remember what Sevile said about Fegerra when she was young?”

“About her running away?” Mab-Kirn asked.  “I was thinking about that.”

“You know, when I was young, I often ran away.  Never very far and I was terrible at it,” Gaila said.  “My father always caught me because I always went to the same place.”

“Why?”

“Because it felt safe, even though he knew where it was.”

Mab-Kirn suddenly pulled his wings in and dropped through the clouds.

“Where are we going?” Gaila called out, grabbing hold of the hides and sitting up.

“To find those ruins.”

They had been there three nights when, from out of the shadows, a small figure crept into the ruins of the temple and sat on a broken column next to a statue of a winged woman.

“I can’t stay,” Fegerra said to the statue.  “He will come after me, I know, but I have to try.  I can’t marry that horrible old man!”

“Fegerra?”  Gaila stepped out from the shadows.

“No!  Oh, please!” the girl wailed.  “Don’t take me back.  Please don’t take me back!”

Gaila walked up to the girl and wrapped her arms around her.  Fegerra all but shrieked in pain.

“Fegerra!  What has happened?   What has he done to you?”  Gaila looked into the girl’s eyes.  Fegerra just shook her head.  “Has he hit you?  Let me see.”

The young princess pulled her shirt off her shoulder to reveal a vivid red mark.

“Oh, the gods!” Gaila exclaimed.  “Kirny, get out here.  Throw me the bag of herbs.”

“What’s happened?” the big dragon asked, stepping out from the tall trees.

“She’s been birched,” Gaila said angrily.  “That bastard has had her whipped.”

The desert dragon flew high and fast through the night and landed in the village at dawn.  Fegerra was asleep, helped by the pain killing herbs that Gaila had given her after cleaning her wounds.  The girl’s back was so badly beaten that the rider was amazed she had made it out of the town.

“Girt, I don’t think they are safe here,” Gaila said.

“I don’t know what to suggest,” the big man said.  “I am Welena’s only family, but we are a poor place.  We are not a home for a princess and not big enough to hide people.”

“I don’t think she is much of a princess any longer,” Gaila commented.  “We told them Welena had been taken by the bandits, but they might want to check whether that was true now Fegerra has run away.”

“How long would it take them to get here?” Girt asked.

“If they come this way, they are a long way behind.  We flew up overnight.”

“Your beast friend must be fast, girl.”

“He is,” Gaila said with a smile.  “I might have a solution, but it will be a permanent one, Girt.  You would never see Welena again.”

“Oh.  What would that be then?”

“I have friends in a country many, many leagues from here.  They will take them both in.  It is wonderful place of honest people and lots of dragons.  They will be loved and protected.”

The big man took a long breath and scratched his chin.  “I don’t really know her anyway,” he said.  “But I loved my sister, and we were close when we were young.  If this place is what you say it is, then my sister will be happy, I think.  She always liked her dreams, even though dreams was all they ever were.”

The two girls huddled close behind Gaila as the beautiful desert dragon flew up above the clouds and through the night, under the light of the two moons, Megan Mona and Efen Mona.

“Will my uncle be safe?” Welena asked.

“Yes, I think so,” Gaila said.  “If the King’s men appear, he will play ignorant, but I doubt they will come.  I think Sevile will send them off on a wild frummage chase.”  The small, greasy fleshed, inedible birds were a pointless quarry.

“What is this place we are going to?” Fegerra asked.

“Weidess Burh,” Mab-Kirn called over his shoulder.  “It’s where dragons first settled in Preland when they returned a few years back.  They love their dragons there and the people are good and fair.”

“Is there a king?”

“Not really, not now.  It is run by a mayor and a council, but you will probably meet Hornan Liander who used to rule the country.”

“I have heard of him,” Fegerra said.  “My father doesn’t like him and what he is trying to do to unite Preland.”

“I am sorry, Fegerra,” Gaila said.

“Don’t be,” the young girl replied.  “I won’t be returning to Arendon.  Not while my father’s family still rules.”  She fell silent, closed her eyes, and dozed off in the night air.

Gaila put her hand on Mab-Kirn’s neck and felt him rumble beneath her.

“What is it, rider?” he asked softly.

“Once I have sorted myself out and trained a bit with Sovan, before we go north, can we make a detour?”

The big dragon chuckled.  “Of course we can,” he said, smiling to himself.  “Anyway, I quite like your idiot of a father.”

This was the first chapter of a forthcoming novel set after the events of Dirt Series Two. If you would like to read the other books, you can find all the Dirt novels at www.AWorldCalledDirt.com

About the Author

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 – The Runaways

About the Author