Jean Rabe - Dragons of a New Age

The dragon howled in pain as blood spurted from his belly. He beat his wings to make himself ascend, the sea barbarian still clutched in his claw.

“Shaon! No!” the big mariner bellowed. He leapt to the rail, balancing himself like an acrobat. His fingers found the daggers strapped to his chest, and he began heaving them at the rising dragon. Rig’s aim was true, but the beast’s hide was too thick. The daggers glanced off and fell benignly into the sea.

“Dark human!” the dragon hissed at Rig as he flapped his wings harder and craned his neck. “You want this woman?”

“Shaon!” Rig bellowed again. He jumped down to the deck, no longer able to balance himself in the tremendous winds created by the blue’s wings. The ship rocked wildly in its slip.

The sea barbarian wriggled in the dragon’s grasp, trying futilely to pry a claw open so she could fall free. But her fingers could find no purchase.

“You want this woman?” the dragon raged.

Palin had finally made his way to the Anvil’s slip, and standing next to the post to which it was moored, he had begun another incantation. His fingers clutched a gold coin. It was a token his Uncle Raistlin had enchanted and given to him when he was little more than a child, and he’d treasured it all these years. The coin vibrated in his hand.

The dragon’s eyes narrowed. “Palin Majere,” he hissed. “Palin Majere—is this your woman? Does she mean something to you?”

Palin paused in his spell, surprised the dragon knew his name. “Let her go!” he cried.

“You can have her!” the dragon spat.

Shaon screamed, a white-hot sensation of pain shooting through her as one of the dragon’s claws pierced her stomach, nearly cutting her in two. Then the dragon dropped her. She fell like a broken doll, and her motionless body struck the Anvil’s deck. The mariner rushed to her.

“Gale!” The word erupted from Dhamon’s mouth. The dragon was indeed familiar! Dhamon’s eyes widened with recognition of the dragon’s visage. The long curling horns, the ridge above the dragon’s malevolently gleaming eyes—the features were distinct. He swallowed hard. “Stop this! Gale!”

The dragon glanced down, spied Dhamon toting the lance, saw his own blood hitting the deck and painting the wood crimson. The blue paused in his assault and scrutinized the man, his wings slowing as he hovered above the dock.

“Dhamon?” the blue hissed. “Dhamon Grimwulf?”

Palin’s concentration faltered, ending the spell. The sorcerer looked incredulously at Dhamon. Feril and Jasper were staring at him, too. Blister was slack-jawed and speechless.

Dhamon nodded. “That’s right, Gale. It’s me. You don’t have to do this. These people have done nothing to you. And you have no reason to fight them.”

“Dhamon, join me!” The dragon’s voice cut through the rain and thunder. “Together again, we can serve a new master!”

“No!” Dhamon retorted. “I’m through with that life!”

“Fool!” Gale hissed. “A grand war is in the offing, Dhamon, and if you side against me, you will be on the losing side.”

“Don’t be certain about that, Gale,” Dhamon said. He held the lance up.

The dragon threw back his head and roared, sending a thick bolt of sizzling lightning skyward. Thunder rocked the harbor. “You’re through with that life? Then you’ll soon be through with life!” the dragon roared. “I’ll spare you for the moment, for old time’s sake. When next we meet, I will not be so charitable.”

The dragon raised his head to the sky and released another barrage of lightning, then he pumped his wings and rose to the clouds, banking toward the western hills.

The rain increased, hammering against the docks and ships. The wind howled like a beast, the ships in the bay crashed into piers.

Palin, fighting against the unnatural weather, thrust the unused coin into his pocket and struggled up the slippery plank to the Anvil’s deck. He headed toward Shaon.

Rig held Shaon’s body, as Jasper, Blister, and Feril crowded around. Dhamon slowly approached them. The big mariner’s eyes were filled with tears, his chest heaving with deep sobs. His dark shoulders shook.

“Shaon,” he moaned. “Why?” He turned to see Dhamon and his eyes narrowed. He gently lowered Shaon’s body to the deck and stood up. “You! You have a lot of explaining to do!”

“You know the dragon?” Feril’s voice was thick with disbelief. “You know the dragon that killed Shaon?”

“Groller?” Dhamon swallowed hard. “Is he dead, too?” “He’ll live,” Jasper answered. “But he’s hurt badly.”

“Answer me, Dhamon!” Feril insisted. “You know the dragon—how?”

“He was my partner. Years ago,” Dhamon began. “When I was a Knight of Takhisis...”

“No!” the mariner wailed. He charged forward, slamming into Dhamon. The lance fell from Dhamon’s hands, clattering, as the pair toppled to the deck. Rig’s hands closed around Dhamon’s neck.

Feril pulled at the mariner. “Stop!” she screamed. “No more killing!” It took her, as well as Palin, to pull the big mariner off.

Dhamon rolled away. He gasped and grabbed his throat, coughed and inhaled deeply as he pushed himself to his knees. “I’m sorry!” His voice was hoarse. “I left Gale years ago.”

“If you hadn’t left him maybe Shaon would still be alive!” Rig spat.

“You don’t know that,” Palin whispered.

Feril took a step toward Dhamon. “Why didn’t you tell us? How could you keep something like this from us?”

“Feril, I...” He stood up and reached out to her, but she recoiled and stepped back. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. Dhamon closed his eyes, trying to control his tears, but they spilled down his cheeks, mingling with the rain.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” Rig fumed. “Sorry won’t bring Shaon back! You should be dead—not her!”

Dhamon’s gaze met the mariner’s. “Look after Feril—please. I’ll deal with Gale. I’ll make sure he never hurts anyone again.” He hurried down the plank that lead to the dock.

“Dhamon!” Palin called. The sorcerer retrieved the lance and held it out. “You’ll need this.”

Dhamon shook his head. “No I won’t.” He quickly lost himself in the crowd that had gathered to stare at the battered Anvil.

The rain fell, ceaselessly. The sky was gray, the clouds thick, hanging dismally over the entire scene.

Rig held Shaon’s body close, rocking back and forth as he sat on deck with his back against the broken mainmast. He whispered to her, as if her spirit might be comforted. He whispered about how sorry he was, how beautiful she had looked in the violet dress, how much he loved her, how he didn’t know if he could go on living without her.

Jasper and Blister helped Groller to his feet, and Fury paced around the half-ogre, whimpering nervously.

“Below deck with him,” the dwarf said. “I want him in bed, then I’ll see what else I can do for him.”

Blister chewed her lip as her fingers painfully closed about Groller’s big hand. She and the dwarf slowly helped the half-ogre to the hatch. The red wolf was close on their heels.

Feril gazed toward the shore, but saw no sign of Dhamon. There was a crowd growing along the bank. She felt very alone.

Palin looked toward the hills, to the west, while the mariner continued his tirade against the former Knight of Takhisis. “Dhamon’s responsible for all of this! Let the dragon kill him, too!”

“Perhaps you are wrong in your anger,” Palin said, not turning around to face Rig. His voice was soft, but the words were forceful enough to give the mariner pause. “A blue dragon killed Shaon, and the dragons are responsible for most of the pain on Krynn.”