Estragon was copy writer for this story years ago but I have made some changes so if there are errors don't blame him.
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The Dragon's unease makes my spine tingle. Caution, wariness, and mistrust, almost to the point of paranoia, are leaking from her mind. Though I know it is not aimed at me, it still instills a bit of fear, fear for those who would attempt to harm us.
I know now, exactly what this woman riding ahead of me is capable of, and I would be lying if I said I did not fear it. I also know without doubt if she ever finds out what I did while she was sleeping she will hate me forever, if not kill me outright. When she woke after our love making and asked why I cried and what I was singing, I lied.
I must say, in my own defense, that I did what I did in order to help her. I told her I cried for joy and that I was singing an old lullaby. In truth I was weaving a bond, and the only way to break this bond is death.
I should probably have never plundered her mind as she slept in my arms, but the temptation was irresistible. I've heard so many bards' tales and songs about her. No one really knows where she came from or how she learned her skills. I just had to do it. Now, I wish I had not.
I thoughtlessly, leaped into the darkest recesses of her memory, expecting to find happy memories of a loving mother and a proud father. Instead I found that horror. Abuse, shame, and agony reigned.
Playing in the forest alone, with an old branch, she learned the basics of swordsmanship. Defending against the viscous attacks of two older and larger brothers taught her to fight. The beatings from her drunken mother and worse still from her perverted father taught her to still her mind and leave the pain and her body behind. She endured and prepared. She grew stronger in body and in mind.
She was a young woman of 18 years when it all exploded. I shudder still and nearly retch at that memory. The mother passed out by the fire, the father and brothers drinking and determined to have her. Have her they did, but when it was over something fractured in her soul and the violence was unleashed.
They cornered her in the barn where she was caring for the horses. Afterward, they slept in the hay snoring like drunken louts. She took up her father's sword and she had her vengeance. When that was done she went to her mother. Her mother screamed and cursed her, blaming what they had done on her, so she'd killed her as well.
She felt no joy or triumph as she stood and watched it all burn. In fact she felt nothing but emptiness and determination. An emptiness of caring for anyone or anything, and a determination that nothing would ever harm her again and live.
She had taken from the house what little had been of value to sell, the horses and her father's sword. From what the sale brought, she had purchased armor, a new sword without memories attached, and a horse. She had named the horse Bore because, until she taught him manners, he had certainly acted like one. Together she and Bore had joined a mercenary band and the Dragon was born.
I have to say I am proud of her, proud, because there has been much healing in the many years since that horrible night. The fracture yet remains though, and if she should come across the wrong evil that evil would have her in an instant. So I have formed a bond based on my own love for her and the tiny, budding, spark of love I found in her for me. Using that spark I will try to heal the fracture and can try to defend her soul if that evil should find us.
-
The hair on the back of my neck rises, and I feel uneasy. Ames must feel it too because she rides behind me silently. We ride, leading the horses carrying the bodies of our fallen comrades to the town where they came from. We have cached our shares of the gold and the Cat guards them for us. I will give their shares to their families, if we make it there. I fear ambush or worse from the three men that left us to fight shorthanded.
Bore's ears twitch repeatedly as we near a pass in the ridge line and my right hand goes to my sword. I use my left to signal Ames that something is amiss and continue on, wondering what is about to happen.
We round a bend and they are upon us. Two hit me from opposing hillsides attempting to pull me from Bore's back and another throws a blanket over Ames from behind as her hart rears and screams. I am unable to draw my sword but my left hand goes to my calf where my throwing knives reside, one of them goes down clutching his throat but the other succeeds in pulling me from Bore's back and we go tumbling across the ground.
As I struggle on the ground with the ringleader, he has me on my back, my knife hand pinned. Suddenly there is a great snapping sound as Bore's hooves hit him where neck meets shoulders. I heave to get his bulk off me just as I hear a piteous keening from the man assaulting Ames. I turn and see that he is holding his eyes, and blood pours as she wins free of the blanket, then he collapses, silent and dead as she rattles off an incantation.
I rush to her side, afraid that she has been hurt and she looks at me with panic, backing away a little. "Ames? Are you OK?" Why is there fear in her eyes? I try to touch her with my mind and I am repelled. I look down and realize I am still holding the knife and I am covered in blood. I drop the knife and hold out my arms and she comes to me at last.
-
Eraat peers from the bushes and revels in the blood and the pain. Master did not tell it that there would be so much fun this early. Master just sent it to wreak vengeance for the death of his pets and find out where the wizard went with Master's stone. Master must have his stone back!
Eraat chuckles as he sees the mage back away. The plan is already working. To take the warrior would be easy, but not the mage. So Eraat will work and eventually the mage will kill the warrior and when she realizes what she has done, she will kill herself. Master will have a bright and vibrant new soul. Perhaps Master will allow Eraat to play with that soul before he makes it his own.
As Eraat watches the warrior and mage collect themselves and make ready to move on, he eases back further into the bushes and runs for the town. Eraat has been working hard, and there will be lots of fun.
--
I regret that there is no way to take the bodies with us but the horses cannot carry the weight. I know they meant to kill us, still, they were men, and I hate to leave the corpses for the scavengers. There is not enough stone here to cover them though and to bury them would be a waste of time. Animals are proficient at digging. I also regret there is no place or time to bathe. Ames seems to crave bathing; maybe that is why she seems to avoid me. We will stay at the town Inn tonight and I will pay to have their largest tub filled with steaming water! We will bathe together, and love each other till dawn.