Hamlet Thriving (Black Lake book 2)

Chapter 4
Drazy
~

My mouth watered as I watched the enormous, huge herd of elk grazin’ the hill across from where we stood. Never saw anythin’ like that before. Without trees or significant bush, there was little chance of creepin’ up on them, but the sight alone was splendid. I smiled as my mate slowly set down our youngest she’d been carryin’. Removed her pack, and picked up her bow and quiver.

The rest of the family, our new, small clan, froze. They didn’t need Kelza to tell them. On the move, it was a little silly to go after an elk. How much of it could we eat here? It was too early in the day to stop. We were weighted down already with everything we owned. Didn’t need to be carryin’ a carcass, even if we divided it between the six adults. We had eaten well the past week, with more than enough game about as we approached the darker, grander mountains we hiked toward. Kelza was bein’ down right greedy.

A mind set to too many years of meager huntin’.

Shadows in the sky caught my daemon eyes. I counted, two, four, six, seven. At first I thought they were vultures, but realized the vee-shaped form meant they dived, not somethin’ buzzards practice as a habit. As the silhouettes approached, they got larger. And larger. Not vultures, nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Never seen such a gatherin’.

I said, “Hold up, Kelza.”

She shot me an angry expression. I shrugged. Most everythin’ makes her mad anyway. I pointed up. Her shoulders sagged. A soft oath escaped her lips, and she took a step back, slowly. She’s no dolt. If she scared off the herd, she would have seven, very irritated dragons to answer to.

“Didn’t we come north to get away from them?” she whispered.

“No, it was the fish.”

“To get away from fish?” she hissed.

“Not to get away— Do we have to go through that again?”

“Through what again?” She looked at me with an odd expression, head tilted, one eye closed. She shook her head and her fairy friend, Keen, flew out of her dreadlocks.

“Ya never listen to me,” I complained.

“Would,” Kelza whispered, “if ya ever said anythin’ intelligent, fool.”

“If ya listened, ya’d find I say plenty of smart thin’s.”

“Name one,” Kelza said, turnin’ back to watch the dragons near. “Ah geez, two queens.”

I looked over, across the gully. The dragons were already hittin’ the herd. The hill across from us exploded with motion, wings everywhere, elk scatterin’, bein’s flung into the air, shriekin’ bellows of panic. Our littlest one let out a squeak of alarm. I picked her up, whispered consolin’ words in her ear.

Kelza waved the clan to continue on, and pressed a finger to her lips. I handed our daughter to her.

“I’ll catch up. See if they leave anythin’ worthwhile,” I told her.

“We don’t need their leftovers,” Kelza hissed. “Besides, ya can bet those gluttons won’t leave a sliver of marrow to show they were here.”

I smiled. She shrugged and moved on to lead the clan. I stood watchin’ them make their way up the steep incline, leadin’ into the tree-covered mountains now just miles away. As beautiful as the vista was before us, my heart tightened for what it meant. The risks are high.

Will the current residents accept daemons in the Range? Will there be as much food as the rumors suggest? So far, that part at least bode true. While the clan we left behind would live easier off the limited game, I’m takin’ away their most efficient hunter. Good for our own, new clan, but not good for those we left behind. A pang of persistent guilt tightened my chest. What did I do? What was I thinkin’? Hope I didn’t bring my family, and others, into harm’s way, on a fool’s quest.

I enjoyed the sight of my tall, athletic mate at the front of the clan. She’s so beautiful.

Don’t deserve her. Oh, how I adore that hen. Could she know how I feel about her? I should tell her.

But she isn’t the sentimental type. Finds it uncomfortable to display affection.

Though, she enjoys teasin’ me, and callin’ me the insultin’ pet names she saves for me. Doesn’t hurt to be called an idjit now and then. Or fool.

My fairy, Verner, buzzed in front of my face. I sighed, and turned toward the other hill, and the feedin’. I idly swatted Verner away from my face.

I caught my breath.

The golden queen stared directly at me, half of an elk hangin’ from her jaws. Jaws with teeth longer than any dagger I’d ever seen in my life. The facets of her eyes seemed to rotate under the sun’s glare.

“This may not be good.”

I needed air, and sucked in a deep breath. Thought of that dragon bull that allowed us to keep that kill, perhaps four years ago. No. Longer than that. Would these be as sociable? Fairy Verner keened, flew about in circles, only to settle again on my shoulder. For once the tiny majie didn’t seem to be such a pest. It was sincerely concerned for me.

“Don’t worry, Verner. We’re no threat to them. They have no reason to harm us.” I said it, but wasn’t truly convinced of my own words. “She may have simply never seen such a handsome creature as me.”

The fairy’s high-pitched whine made me close my eyes for a moment.

“Don’t buy it, eh? Well, keep it to yarself.”

The majie continued to fret, but I concentrated on the sedge of dragons. One by one the other dragons looked up and faced me.

“Oh, ignore me,” I mumbled. “Pretend I’m not here. Go back to yar eatin’. Good fresh elk it is. Much better meat than what clings to my bones. Just ask my mate. No. Don’t ask my mate. I have no mate. I’m here all alone. I swear.”

The darker, almost-purple queen dropped the remains of a cow and trumpeted. It was a harsh, gratin’ sound.

“Don’t have to be a dragon to figure out that wasn’t a happy sound,” I said. Verner’s high-pitched keen returned. “Hush little one. That ain’t helpin’ anythin’.”

The golden queen tilted back her head, crushed the remains of the elk in her jaws with a couple chomps, and swallowed it down with a few violent thrusts. I could see the bulges of huge chunks flowin’ down her throat. It gave me a shiver—of world-renown shivers.

“Ick. That’s ugly.”

The creature launched, maybe threatenin’ my bladder a bit. With a single thrust of her enormous wings she was fifty feet in the air, glided toward me.

“Oh, I wish I’d told Kelza I loved her before she left.”

Verner disappeared into the ethereal, only to reappear with thirty friends. They flew above my head in a mad spiral, each screechin’ what I assume was a threat to the approachin’ dragon.

“Don’t think ya boys will scare her off,” I mumbled, tryin’ to emotionally prepare for the worst. I gripped my staff, a tool I had never used in anger.

The dragon twisted her wings to settle to a gentle stop, snout a few yards above my head. She arched her neck, and her face lowered, feet from my own. She was the most enormous thin’ I’d ever seen in my life. She folded her wings in and back with a snappin’ sound. Her neck alone had to be twenty feet long. She was magnificent—unless she decided to make me a second course. I would consider another description for her in that case.

The swarm of fairies suddenly calmed. The irritatin’ scream moderated to the gentle buzz of their wings. They began to land on the dragon’s shoulders. Verner returned and settled on my shoulder, queerly serene.

“The majies respect you,” the dragon said softly in Standish. Her voice mewed melodious, gentle. “They’re usually good judges of character.”

“Ya don’t say.” Oh why did I say that? Maybe, I should have agreed strongly with her.

“We have a dwarf neighbor who is adored by gnomes. They flit around him constantly. Can’t take a breath without one in his face, take a step without trippin’ over one. Bein’ liked can have its negatives.”

“Dwarves, gnomes and dragons. I didn’t think yall got along very well,” I said.

The dragon looked over her shoulder for a moment. “Don’t mention dwarves to my queen. She gets rather irritated merely thinkin’ about them.” She paused and continued under her breath. “Not that it takes much to irritate her.”

Must be a universal, female thin’. I said, “I promise I won’t say a word.”

“Ya’re taller than a goblin, but ya don’t look like any goblin I’ve ever seen. Ya have meat on yar bones.”

She doesn’t know of us? She’s not spent any time in the south, that’s for sure. Uh. She sure is studyin’ me serious-like.

“Because I’m not a goblin,” I admitted.

The dragon stared back at me. She blinked two layers of eyelids. That caused me to shudder. It was a bizarre thin’ to see.

“Oh,” I said. “I s’pose ya’re waitin’ for me to tell ya what I am.”

“Ya embrace the conspicuous well,” the dragon drawled.

I smiled. This queen reminded me of my Kelza. My smile deepened as I thought it looked likely I might live to be teased by her again.

“Well?”

“Sorry. I was imaginin’ ya didn’t come over here to eat me,” I said.

“We’ve sworn an oath to let the lesser races, two-legged creatures, be,” she answered.

“That’s a good thin’ to hear.”

“Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t rip ya in two if ya threatened my people,” she amended.

“I’ve never imagined hurtin’ a fleck on a dragon’s hide.”

“No dragon has anythin’ to fear from the likes of ya.” She made some kind of gurglin’ noise deep in her chest and her head swayed for a moment.

I smiled when I realized the dragon’s noise was the equivalent to a laugh, maybe. Never been so politely insulted.

“I’m referrin’ to my people,” the dragon said. “The folk of the Hamlet of Black Lake Valley.”

“Black Lake. I’ve heard it’s a majical place, beautiful, and bountiful. Never heard it had dragon guardians.”

“Good folk live there. If ya have less than generous intentions, I warn ya to turn back.”

“I have the noblest intentions, dragon. I wish to find a place to settle down in peace, where I can raise my family, not worry they may not have a proper meal for weeks.”

“My name is Iza. Ya have a family?”

I struggled not to look to my right, into the shadows of the near trees. The question came as an eerie threat. “I might.”

“I can tell ya families come as a priority in the Valley.”

I let out a breath. “Will ya speak for me, for us?”

“I won’t have to,” she said. “All are welcome who come in peace.”

The dragon pulled back her neck and launched into the air, makin’ me flinch, more lurch, in panic. She wasn’t much for givin’ a fellow a warnin’. She rejoined her sedge. I watched them for another minute and decided Kelza was right. They didn’t eat like other bein’s. There would be nothin’ left but bloodied soil.

I turned to join my clan at a jog, Verner leadin’ the way in his zigzag manner. I neared the tree line when a whisperin’ sound I first thought came from the breeze through the staggered pines, reached me. It turned into a loud flutter. I looked up to see the golden dragon strokin’ to land near me. But somethin’ came lungin’ toward me.

“What the—?” I leapt to the side as a mass thudded to the ground feet away.

The young queen veered away. My eyes clung to the sight of her, the majesty of her beauty and power. In moments she remained a tiny spish in the sky as she flew to rejoin her sedge again. The seven creatures flew west. Lookin’ for another kill, maybe.

I finally looked down at the object she dropped. The young elk calf was in excellent shape. Perhaps it even breathed still.

~