Expiring Covenant (Black Lake Book 1)

Chapter 11
Mo’sale
~

“They’re either a good snack for a brood, or competition,” I said. “Depends how efficient they are with their little strings in the water.”

My dragon mate glared at the two critters sittin’ in the boat far below us. Ash’et moved her talons upon the outcroppin’ to get more comfortable. The breeze caught her mostly-folded wings and made her body sway, pushin’ her against me. I unfolded a wing a bit and pressed against her in support. I love any excuse to caress her.

“Snatchin’ one or two might not raise much notice,” she said. “But their kind doesn’t accept insult easily. Stubborn and tenacious fools. They’ll be huntin’ what took their friends.”

“One good thin’ about the orcs.”

“Goblins too,” she added.

“These would be too easy anyway, whatever they are,” I said. “No sport to it. They don’t even look to be carryin’ any kind of sword or bow.”

“Nor shield or knife for that matter,” she said. “Deer more entertainin’. At least they’re fleet footed.”

“Not even a tusk, sittin’ there as pretty as ya please. But, be a nice snack. We haven’t hunted for days.” I moved about to get a different view of them. Flicked my tongue, as though I might be able to smell them from our ledge.

Ash’et swung her head on her long, arched neck to peer at me. “I would be willin’ to eat. But I think this is a nice place to settle a while. We should have a look around first. Not upset the locals if they’re in numbers to come after us.”

“I let ya woo me because ya’re so practical,” I said.

She tilted her head back and trumpeted, enjoyin’ my humor. The sky filled with frightened birds for miles around. The fishermen scanned the sky.

“They’re humans,” Ash’et said.

“Humans?” I mumbled. “We must be far from any orc or goblin packs, then. That’s a shame. Perhaps the peaks south of here were a good place to stop after all.”

“I hate the winters in the peaks,” she said. “Be even colder here, in the center of the Range. That’s a shame. Need to find a deep lair, if we linger, as I’m thinkin’.”

She leapt off the outcroppin’ and fell straight down the cliff face to pick up speed before unfurlin’ her wings, to float in a curvin’ arc over the water. She circled and neared the boat. Sailed over the two men and trumpeted. Indeed, too easy to pluck one of them, though they weren’t worth botherin’ with, not havin’ a brood to feed. Yet.

She struck out with her long wings and rose higher over the lake. I joined her after a bit, soarin’ in from her right, above. The water was deep, black-deep, as deep as any ocean, though there was an occasional shadow of a feedin’ leviathan. We looked at each other and smiled, beasts that would feed a dragon pair and their brood for weeks, though an adult could be a challenge for even a dragon queen to pull from the water.

Valleys in every direction, watersheds for the expansive lake—almost an ocean in its own right, held more deer, elk, boar, and antelope to count. This is indeed a good place to rest for a number of seasons. No need to threaten the weaker races and risk their reprisals.

We discovered a huge structure below and Ash’et tilted her wings to soar closer. There were creatures about, two-legged variety and their stock, across a good mile of shorefront. Many neighborin’ properties. The pier that reached far into the lake held a dozen more beasts like the two in the boat. As we neared I recognized a couple ogres, and a race I’m very familiar with. Ash’et veered toward the end of the pier and gently backstroked to settle.

I really didn’t want to join her among so many of what are our natural enemies, but I landed, maybe not as gracefully, to Ash’et’s left. I sensed she was disappointed the sight of her didn’t send them runnin’. But, as expected, the dwarf came runnin’ toward her, his axe raised menacin’ly. Wasn’t my experience to expect my mate to ignore that challenge calmly.

“Restrain yarself, runt,” she said, strugglin’ with her words. I’m sure she hadn’t spoken Standish in more centuries than she could remember. “For the moment I have no mind to feast upon ya. Don’t give me reason to change my mind.”

“We ran yar kind off from here generations ago,” the dwarf shouted. “Ya’re not doin’ yarself a favor by returnin’.”

“Ya hardly ran us off, runt. We merely bored with all yar drama.” There was that nasty settlement, the Covenant, we’d agreed to, too. She took in the others on the pier, irritated not to see fear on their faces. Clearly the centuries have washed the minds of these fools, of our danger. I settled a bit more comfortably behind Ash’et, foldin’ my wings in carefully, gettin’ them just right, since my mate appeared to be in a conversational mood.

“All we need,” the dwarf barked. “A breedin’ pair.”

“That we are,” I cooed, nuzzlin’ Ash’et and wringin’ my neck around hers lovin’ly.

The dwarf pulled back his axe as though he was about to hurl it at us—perhaps lookin’ for a lucky strike, our necks bein’ entwined. The sun glinted off the razor-sharp blade. I knew Ash’et could easily block it with a raised talon, but why take the chance of receivin’ a nasty gash, if it wasn’t necessary.

“Calm yarself, dwarf,” she shouted, steppin’ forward to protect me—she’s such a marvelous mate. “I’ll have a word with whomever ya call yar leader.”

“I’ll see they get yar message, dragon,” the dwarf growled. He hefted the axe again in subtle warnin’ that he wasn’t goin’ to relax.

“We need have no animosity,” Ash’et said. “We can be good neighbors. Did ya know the orcs and goblins are movin’ nearer in the east?”

“That’s a lie. They wouldn’t dare break the Covenant.”

“Oh, ya lesser creatures place such stock in that petty agreement ya signed at the end of yar wars, when all of ya were decimated and starvin’, yar domains shriveled to nearly nothin’. Easy to follow when there were so few of ya, ya never came in contact with each other. But all of yar populations are reboundin’—unfortunately.” Ash’et lowered her head slowly toward the dwarf as though to prove she had no fear of the tiny runt.

The half-man puckered his face up, turnin’ red in irritation. “Don’t play games with me, dragon. I remember yar deceitful kind.”

“Yes, it is a shame yar kind are so long-lived,” Ash’et drawled. She looked up. Curious faces ringed the crowd, but began to make way for a new arrival. “An elf,” Ash’et hissed. Birds that had just begun to re-settle since our arrival launched back into the air. Ash’et motioned with the tip of her wing. “He makes my point, dwarf. Imagine an elf this far south.”

The dwarf turned toward the newcomer. “Master Braes. I’d introduce ya, but this beast will be leavin’ promptly, so no need to get too friendly.”

“Not so promptly,” Ash’et cooed. “Yar dwarf friend never learned any manners. An absence of intellect and lack of patience is their race’s keenest shortcomin’.”

“What do ya want, dragon?” the dwarf shouted.

“I’m here to inform ya, as a peaceful neighbor, that we’ll be about.”

The dwarf hefted his axe again.

“Oh stop that,” she hissed, flutterin’ a wing. “Ya look ridiculous.” She sighed. “Our kind might not have physically signed yar precious Covenant, but recognized the shadow of sanity it contained. That said, we have no need to hunt yar kind. We will live in peace. And better yet, we will keep our eyes open for the orcs and goblins we passed on our way here. I believe ya would not mind if we fed our brood orcs and goblins, is that correct?”

None of the two-legged creatures said a word. She trumpeted softly. Clearly, there was no acceptance for those races yet. She hesitated and scanned the eyes glued upon her. She raised a brow when she saw a troll makin’ his way forward.

“Look. How quaint,” Ash’et said, with a special leer at the giant. She raised her head a few feet and cocked it, studyin’ the beast. “Ya’ve decided yar little village can suffer so many races already, includin’ the sun-hatin’ troll. So it shouldn’t be such a task to accept two peaceful dragons.”

“Peaceful,” the dwarf hissed. The sun glinted off that axe again.

The troll stepped forward, stoppin’ within a foot of my mate’s fangs. Ash’et coiled her neck to withdraw a bit.

“As long as ya keep yar menu limited to four-legged creatures as ya promise, and bathe before ya visit, we won’t have a problem.”

Ash’et trumpeted again, louder. The elf covered his ears, and the troll grimaced and turned his head aside in irritation at the din. I peeked around her, not appreciatin’ the troll’s insultin’ humor. Considered givin’ him a snap with an outstretched wing. Ash’et wrapped a wing over my shoulders, to show there was no need for me to act in her honor.

“Do not forget the finned creatures of the lake,” she said.

“Agreed,” the troll growled.

“To show our good intentions, we will supply yar village with game today. We saw plenty on the far side of the lake,” Ash’et said.

“We do our own huntin’,” the dwarf shouted.

“It’s a wonder the others put up with yar kind, dwarf. Even trolls and ogres are more respectful.”

“I must recollect better than most,” the dwarf said, swingin’ his dainty little axe a smidgen at his side—again.

Ash’et glared at the half-man for a moment before launchin’ into the air. I extended my wings for a moment to show off the rainbow colors the sun brought out in them, before followin’ her.

~

Ash’et ascended sharply, showin’ off her strength, and I struggled to catch up. I whined when I finally reached her, but she didn’t apologize.

“Ya were right,” I said. “They do look willin’ to search out our lair.”

Ash’et looked over at me with one shimmerin’ eye without movin’ her head, not to interfere with the perfect flow of air over her body. “Imagine the impertinence,” she snapped. Her nostrils distended as she snorted. “They should kneel to their superiors. Instead they challenge me, insult me.”

“Ya said ya were ready for a peaceful place—” I interrupted myself as I fluttered hard to match her soarin’ speed. “There is plentiful game here. If we do not feed on them, they will leave us be.”

“Says one troll. He doesn’t speak for the entirety of the local trolls, much less the riot of creatures down there. As small as that village is, probably don’t even have a local council.”

“It takes a lot to take them out of their mines,” I said.

“It’s not the troll that worries me. Those dwarves are a stubborn lot. If it was up to them the wars woulda continued until there was only a single beast left standin’.”

I sensed memories when she was a fledglin’ floodin’ her mind, when a clan of dragons could blacken the sky. “We are an army that cannot be beaten,” her mama gloated. “We do not even have to enter battle. Sight of us sends our foes fleein’ in panic.”

She saw it herself as a fledglin’. Ogres, humans, and trolls fallin’ to the ground and tryin’ to disappear. All our kind had to do was swoop down and pick them off at our leisure.

The elves and dwarves didn’t fight as an army—perhaps because there was never as many of them.

But it was the dwarves and their majical friends, the gnomes, that crept silently into the mountains and slaughtered our helpless broods—the meanest attrition.

“Those dwarves are despicable creatures.” She seethed with hatred. The breedin’ pairs that remained saved our race by escapin’ south of the Wildes. “I have only one more brood in me,” Ash’et hissed. “I will not be takin’ any chances with it.”

“Choose, dear mate. Daemons south, orcs and goblins of the East, or dwarves and ogres of the West. Which threat do ya fear the most? The six seasons before a fledglin’ is ready to take care of itself means ya cannot change yar mind.”

“Leave me be!” Ash’et shrieked.

She threw her head angrily to the right, pullin’ her into a modest dive, away from me. Birds below took to the air, and grazers fled for the forest. I pumped to catch up with her again.

“I do not need ya explainin’ the obvious to me,” she shouted.

I closed my eyes in quiet deference, and apology.

“Not a decision I will make rashly,” she said more calmly. “We’ll linger until full summer, find the best ledge, and determine if the dwarves are willin’ to let us be.”

Ash’et watched how my brow curved together. I’m eager for a sense of permanence. She had followed her wanderlust for so many centuries. I’m ready to build a lair and spoil a nestlin’ or two, if we’re so blessed.

She perhaps decided to grant me the consolation of a mid-air embrace. Banked against me forcin’ me to pull in my delicate wings. As we fell into a dive, she enveloped me within her enormous span, and curled her neck around me. The clench was short. The forest came toward us quickly and I had to work to keep from hittin’ the tops of the trees, but I’m confident a glint in my eye and a smile on my snout amused her when I rejoined her.

~