When One Hunts Dragons

The dawn had barely begun to paint the sky a golden hue when Sparrow mounted her white mare Destiny with her longbow and arrows slung across her back and her sword hanging at her hip. She wore no armor, for she had discovered from previous experience that it weighed her down and prevented her from moving swiftly enough to deliver the killing blow.

Her father reached up to clasp her hand briefly in his.

"I wish you would not go, Sparrow."

"You say the same every time I leave, Papa. You know that I must go." She touched the leather cord around her neck, from which dangled six curved fangs the length of her middle finger. "Another one of Teb's sheep was taken last night. As the most accomplished Dragonslayer..."

"A profession better suited to a young man," her father broke in.

Sparrow emitted a loud sigh and continued as though she had not been interrupted,

"As the most accomplished Dragonslayer among the surrounding villages 'tis my duty to rid our village of this plaguesome beast." She gave his hand a final squeeze before slipping her fingers from his to take up Destiny's rein. "Farewell, Papa. I shall return with another tooth for my collection."

"Farewell, Sparrow. I wish you the best of luck and await your return."

The early morning summer sun was creeping up the horizon as she turned her mount away from her village of Leaffsley. She had not intended to tarry so long.

She struck off north toward the hills just beyond the village of Abbershire, in the direction the shepherd Teb claimed to have seen an enormous dragon fly off with one of his sheep on the night just past.

As she rode she scanned the sky for dragons, although the beast she currently sought seemed only to make its presence known at night. This was atypical behavior for the dragons she was accustomed to hunting, but it was not beyond the scope of reason that there may be some nocturnal species she had not heretofore encountered. The details mattered little to her. A dragon was a dragon, and all dragons must be slain.

Evening was giving way to night by the time Sparrow reached Dellingsdale, the first of the villages she would pass through on her way to Abbershire.

The only tavern inn that Dellingsdale offered was shabby and rather less than inviting, but the wooden sign out front declared that there were rooms available. Sparrow dismounted and handed Destiny's reins over to the stableboy who greeted her.

"Lodging, food or drink?" The innkeeper queried brusquely, glancing up for just a moment when the door opened. Sparrow wondered if he greeted all potential customers in such an unwelcoming manner and deemed it likely.

"I would like a room for the night," Sparrow responded.

"Have you got coin for a room?" His eyes were focused on the hours-old wine stain he was attempting to rub from the mahogany bar with a thin rag.

Sparrow untied the fabric coin purse from her belt as she approached the bar and spilled a handful of silver pieces out onto the wood.

"That will do. Rooms are in the back. You have a few to choose from."

After spending a largely sleepless night tossing and turning upon the lumpy mattress, Sparrow awoke unrefreshed and made her way to the tavern for a breakfast of cold beans and bread.

She tossed a coin to the stableboy and requested him to saddle Destiny for her.

The stretch of road between the village of Dellingsdale and the village of Ishyrr held a reputation for being favored by brigands. Although the reports of robberies had grown fewer and fewer over the past fortnight or two, Sparrow yet kept her senses on alert.

When two ragged looking men stepped out from the sheltering trees at the side of the road directly in her path she reigned Destiny in hard.

"Well now, and where are you heading on this fine morning?" The shorter of the two men inquired in a casual tone, reaching up to take hold of Destiny's bridle.

"I hunt a dragon that was last seen winging toward the Abbershire hills." Sparrow's hand rested on the hilt of the sword at her hip.

"A Dragonslayer, is it? Well, Dragonslayer, you must have noticed that my associate and I are without mounts. This pretty horse of yours will suit us fine. Hand it over to us and you may go on your way."

"Your weapons too," the taller man spoke up. "Well, you can keep the bow. I have no use for that. But I fancy that sword." He spoke with a lisp due to the absence of his two front teeth.

"Release my horse and allow me to pass," Sparrow demanded. The slight quickening of her breath was the only outward indication of her fear. When one made a career of slaying dragons it was always best to keep such emotions hidden deep beneath the surface.

"Not without that horse." The man holding Destiny's bridle gave his companion an almost imperceptible nod.

The taller man reached up to grasp Sparrow by the waist, hauling her down from Destiny and holding her tight while the shorter man swung himself up into the saddle.

Destiny reared and stamped her hooves, tossing her head from side to side with wide eyes and flared nostrils. Her new rider grabbed hold of the reins and jerked them hard, unperturbed.

"Now that fine sword," the man holding Sparrow hissed in her ear. Restraining her with one arm, he made a clumsy attempt to unbuckle her scabbard with his free hand.

Sparrow brought the heel of her boot down upon his foot with vicious force and spun away from him when his grip on her loosened for just an instant.

"If you so desire my sword then you shall have it!" She declared, pulling the weapon from its scabbard and swinging it at her former captor.

"Ho, a spirited Dragonslayer!" He laughed as he danced to the side. He procured a sheathed dagger from the top of his boot and tossed the sheath to the ground.

Moving with far more grace and agility than Sparrow would have expected from one of such a stocky build, he dodged her next strike and darted forward to thrust his dagger into her abdomen.

She twisted instinctively to the side and the dagger sunk cross-guard deep into the meat of her hip instead. White star shapes of agony burst across her vision. The anguish was worse yet when he withdrew the blade with a deliberate and cruel slowness.

She cried out in anguish and her sword clattered to the dirt as she pressed both hands to her blood-slicked breeches.

The brigand lifted her sword from the ground and swung himself up onto Destiny's back behind his companion. A swift and brutal kick to the ribs urged the unwilling mare into a gallop.

Despite her belt, which she had removed and tightened about her leg just below the dagger wound, rivulets of crimson were coursing down Sparrow's right leg before she had walked two dozen paces. Each step was torture.

By horseback she would have made the village of Ishyrr by nightfall. On foot and at the painfully slow pace her injury dictated, she was not certain she would reach it at all.

Racked with excruciating pain, dizzy with the loss of blood and overcome by the baking heat of the sun, she collapsed senseless to the dirt.

She awoke to find herself lying upon a mattress more comfortable than the one she had slept upon in the Dellingsdale inn.

"Where am I?" She croaked, forcing her eyes open to slits.

A face swam into soft focus above her after a few moments. A quite pleasing face with a smattering of freckles across pale cheeks, framed by silky copper-red hair.

"You have awoken. I was uncertain that you would. You have lain asleep for two days now. I cleansed and sutured your wound as well as I was able."

"Where am I? Is this Ishyrr?"

"No. You are in Abbershire."

"Abbershire?"

"Yes."

"And how came I to be here?"

"I came across you lying in the road to Ishyrr two days past. I at first believed you to be inebriated. When I saw that you were indeed injured I slung you across my horse and brought you here to my hut."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Nyelle. And you are?"

" I am Sparrow of Leaffsley. I thank you for your assistance, fair Nyelle."

"How came you to be injured?"

"Brigands. They stole my horse and my sword."

"Yes, they are wont to travel that road. Was your destination Ishyrr?"

"No, in truth I was Abbershire bound."

Nyelle's vivacious smile seemed to light up her entire face, her gray-blue eyes crinkling at the corners.

"I had hoped that to be the case," she declared.

Sparrow eased herself into a sitting position and regarded Nyelle with curiosity, her had cocked to one side. "You hoped that Abbershire was my destination? Why?"

Nyelle reached out to touch the dragon tooth necklace that hung about Sparrow's neck.

"You are a Dragonslayer, are you not?" She queried. "That was my assumption when I found you, wearing this and armed with bow and arrows." She inclined her head toward Sparrow's longbow and quiver, propped up in the corner.

"I am indeed. The dragon I hunt was last seen flying in this direction. Have you seen the beast?"

"I have indeed. It plagues us nightly. A great honey colored dragon with eyes of ruby. Abbershire is in dire need of a Dragonslayer."

Sparrow threw back the rough blanket and would have stepped from the bed had Nyelle not placed a hand against her shoulder and forced her gently to sit back again.

"Your wound has not healed fully, Sparrow. I do desire for the dragon to be slain, but not at the risk of your well-being. Now you will allow me to prepare you a meal. You must be famished." Nyelle's tone left no room for argument.

A full fortnight had passed before Nyelle deemed Sparrow strong enough to walk about.

Over the course of that fortnight Sparrow had lain nightly in the bed listening to the shrieks of the dragon as it flapped its massive wings in the dark sky above the village, cursing the dagger wound that prevented her from dispatching the beast forthwith.

Nearly every morning Nyelle would report with tears in her eyes that the dragon had carried off a sheep or a horse or, on one dreadful occasion, a small child.

Over the course of that fortnight, as well, Sparrow grew to realize that the friendship she harbored for Nyelle had blossomed into an emotion more akin to the first stirrings of romantic love. She was reluctant to speak on this, not at all certain how Nyelle would react.

It was a glorious summer day and the two of them were tending the small vegetable patch at the back of Nyelle's hut.

Nyelle straightened up to stretch her back, the sunlight catching her hair and turning it to a halo of molten gold.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," Sparrow sighed. She had not intended to say it aloud, yet did not regret having done so when Nyelle turned to her with a brilliant smile.

"You have never seen your own reflection, then, Sparrow?" She replied with an inflection that was both playful and sincere. She walked over to take the Dragonslayer's face between her hands, leaning in to place a kiss upon her lips.

Sparrow kissed her hungrilly in return, half pushing and half carrying her back into the hut.

They fell together upon the mattress and were soon lost in the ecstasy of one another's bodies.

It was just before dawn when Sparrow was awoken by the dragon's screech, frightfully close to the hut. She slipped out of bed and padded to the corner to retrieve her bow and arrows. Nyelle was nowhere to be seen. Sparrow's blood chilled in her veins. Had Nyelle for some reason ventured outside during the night and been caught by the dragon?

The shriek came again and Sparrow opened the door of the hut, peering out. The dragon was perched upon the ground a mere ten or eleven feet from where the hut stood. It was an enormous creature of a warm brownish-orange color with leathery wings folded against its back.

The dragon did not take flight as Sparrow nocked an arrow to her bow and crept stealthily into range. Nor did it seem prepared to charge at her or offer a fight. It sat where it was, watching her through red eyes that glowed dimly in the gloomy pre-dawn light, almost as though it welcomed the death she would deliver to it.

When the arrow struck the beast's chest it let out a thin, high wail and heeled over to one side.

Sparrow approached the dragon without trepidation, eager to claim its tooth for her prize.

As she drew nearer she found that the dragon yet breathed, although its breath was shallow and pained. Her arrow had not pierced through the center of its heart as intended, but had lodged an inch or two lower. The creature had been fatally wounded yet not instantly killed. Its heart blood stained the ground, thick and black.

Sparrow felt a pang of regret. As a Dragonslayer she made it her duty to dispatch her quarry quickly and efficiently. She had never taken pleasure in watching them suffer.

She reached into her quiver for a second arrow just as the sun crept into view above the horizon.

The dragon was no longer there. Lying in its place, an arrow through her chest and blood staining her dress, was Nyelle.

Sparrow dropped her arrow and dropped to her knees, lifting Nyelle's head and gazing with horror into her anguished blue-grey eyes.

"Thank you, my Sparrow," Nyelle whispered. Her voice was thin. "The curse has been broken. I am at last free."

"Oh Nyelle," Sparrow choked out. The tears streaming down here cheeks made speech difficult. "Had I but known I would not have..."

"I wanted you to," Nyelle interrupted her. "You have done me a great service, Dragonhunter. I thank you."

Sparrow bent her head to kiss Nyelle on the lips, then cradled her gently against her chest as she drew in her final breath.

After finding Nyelle's horse in the stable and saddling it, Sparrow set off for her village of Leaffsley with an empty and aching heart.

Somewhere along the way she tore the dragon tooth necklace from her neck and tossed it away into the shrubbery bordering the road.

Her father was watching for her at the gates of the village, as he had always watched daily for her return when she was on a hunt.

"Has the dragon been slain?" He greeted her as she dismounted from the horse.

"Yes, she has," Sparrow whispered.

Her father did not understand the pain in his daughter's voice or the tears that slid down her cheeks, nor did he ask her to explain them. He merely held her in his comforting embrace while she wept.