Dragon's Lair

Thru waist high snow drifts he trudged, his feet and face grown numb from exposure. Snowflakes as big as his face began to drift down from the murky sky. The wind cut bitterly into his flesh.

A terrible earth shaking roar told him the Elder Dragon was now close on his heels. He climbed the edge of the glacier, racing across the icy plateau even as he felt the hot scent of dragon's breath on his back. Instinctively, he leaped aside, just as a swath of flame seared across the plain, cutting a deep furrow in the surface of the ice where he had stood a moment before. He ran on.

The sun, though not yet risen, now tinged the eastern sky with deep hues of ruby and gold, transforming the glacier to an iridescent field of shimmering fire, a scene of achingly haunting beauty. Snow continued to fall in great lacy sheets. The elder dragon, his reptilian coils shining like brass in the eerie half-light, lurched across the ice fields, blindly pursuing its foe. Gasping for breath, Mantegor used his last remaining strength to propel himself ahead of the monster. He saw far ahead a gaping darkness that must be the cave that Zhyrtuk had spoken of. But it was still far out of his reach. The dragon was gaining on him now. Any moment, it would regain its eyesight and its great lurching form would be on him.

He climbed into the deep snowy cliffs that bordered the valley, keeping just ahead of the great snouted nose that closely pursued. The dragon had more difficulty in the loose packed drifts, which kept collapsing beneath his weight and burying his head in snow. Mantegor laughed. But he'd forgotten that the dragon was a shape shifter. Swiftly it transformed into a golden snow leopard and paced across the snow towards him at a fantastic pace, its nimble paws making barely any imprint in the soft snow.

He turned to meet his foe, lunging at the snow leopard with both arms outstretched. Together, they tumbled down the side of the drift, each moment the snow leopard's talons raking across Mantegor's naked back as he held the beast's fangs from his throat with sheer brute strength. He took the beast's own throat in his two strong hands and began to squeeze with all his might.

When they reached the bottom of the slopes, it was no longer a snow leopard he held in his grasp but a slippery rock snake. It slithered thru his grasp before he could stop it, but swiftly as an eagle snatching its prey, his hand darted out once more and caught the serpent by its tail. He swung it around and threw it with all his might towards an icy cliff side.

The snake transformed once more back to a dragon in mid air, but still slammed into the cliff side. The earth shook and a shower of stones fell across the dragon's form. Mantegor fled once more across the plateau, summoning his last strength for this final run.

Zhyrtuk decided he was tired of this game. He raised his great wings and took to the air, knowing his prey would be far easier to snatch from above.

The night stars shone like crystal as Zhyrtuk soared, smoky flames dripping from his open maw. But Mantegor's speed was like that of a starving wolf. The cliff side and the black yawning chasm in its face drew ever nearer. Zhyrtuk burst forth with a huge gout of flame, but Mantegor nimbly leapt aside at the precise moment, so that the fire scorched only ice moss.

Darkness was all around once more and Mantegor knew he had won. Before him was the naked form of Yana, white and gleaming in the shadows. By her side stood the shimmering naked sword of razor sharp steel. He easily thrust her aside and tore it from her grasp. Turning swiftly, his left arm crushed her to his chest while he placed the point of the blade against her creamy white throat.

"Now, serpent," he said triumphantly, "We shall see who will die!"

"You should be wary of the woman you deign to take prisoner," said the dragon, his voice gone tinged with mockery. "She is not to be toyed with."

"I'll kill her if you do not come to terms with me," hissed Mantegor.

"I see." said Zhyrtuk, "It all comes down to human greed once more. You will kill an innocent over your desire to possess this blade. Do you not realize what has happened here? Yana has given you a gift more precious than all the gems and gold in my cavern, more precious even than that mighty blade!"

Mantegor was unbelieving. He had heard of the wiles of dragons. This one was without doubt spinning a tale to mesmerize him and take him unawares.

"Tell me, great serpent," said he. "Of what gift do you speak that is more precious than gold and gems?"

The Elder Dragon sighed heavily, a sound that shook the entire landscape.

"Knowledge," said the dragon.

"Knowledge?" scoffed Mantegor. "Knowledge of what? What good is this knowledge when I don't even know what I know?"

"Knowledge of your own immortality! But nay, I see that you don't understand. You've yet to discover just who and what you are."

"I'm no more than a man and I want nothing more than to take my treasure and be gone," said Mantegor.

The dragon sighed once more. There was an ancient weariness there, thought Mantegor, more dangerous somehow than anger or hate.

"Take then what you have stolen," Zhyrtuk said. "It's of no use to me. But you should know that it is all accursed. Dragons' treasures always are. Material wealth has a way of attracting negative energies. Call them demons, if you will, or destructive entities, but they are especially drawn to riches that have been fought over or that have a long record of bloodshed in their history. It is the bane of dragons to have such duty as to guard such accursed treasures until such time as the evil spirits dissipate."

Mantegor had listened to this explanation without comment. It was all too clear in his mind that Zhyrtuk was trying to confuse him, to make him careless. He wouldn't be so easily duped!

Yana then began to shiver in his grasp. He held her more tightly to him, but suddenly it was no longer a woman that he held, but another dragon! The great face of a slender golden dragon smiled down on him.

"Let us play no more games, sir," she said. "You came here to slay us, and to steal our treasures."

Mantegor was stunned into silence.

The she dragon laughed. "You marvel, but Zhyrtuk already told you that I was his daughter, and even shown you that we elder dragons have the knowledge to take on any form, even that of a human."

Mantegor let his blade fall to his side.

The dragon queen laughed. "You dream such petty dreams. I can see them in your mind even now, dreams of power and glory. But there is more in yourself you've yet to discover. Fear not, It's not our desire to stop you. Take the sword and what you will of the treasure. But remember the curse!"

"Of what curse do you speak?" asked Mantegor.

"This sword is forbidden to all but myself and Yana," said Zhyrtuk. "Why did you choose that blade amongst all those treasures?"

"I don't know," he admitted. I was drawn to it. It seemed meant to be mine. And after all, of what use is a sword to a dragon? Why is this sword, of all amidst your treasure, the most forbidden?"

"Because its the sword that is destined to slay me," replied the Elder Dragon.

5.

As Mantegor made his way back to his homeland, he trod every now familiar trail that had led him to Dragonmount. Though he was weighted down with the bag of treasures and a new sword, he walked now with a swifter and surer pace. In his mind, he was already conceiving the accolades that would be showered on him when he returned to his village. With the riches he carried, he would become a lord of the land! He looked forward to seeing his adopted mother again. He would give her enough jewels so that she would want for nothing for the rest of her days. Shingar would be amazed to hear how he had outwitted an Elder Dragon. He would tell the tale until they all tired of hearing him tell it. There would be feasts and celebrations in his honor, and he would be hailed as a leader of men! Then he would make his plans and enlist workers to build a ship for a voyage to the Southern Lands!

At last he came to more familiar terrain and saw the valley of his homeland spread before him basking in the afternoon sun. Smoke from cooking fires hung like a yellow haze in the air. He hoped he had arrived in time for the evening meal. He was ravenous after his adventures. But as he drew nearer he realized there was too much smoke in the air to be only the residue of the cooking fires. Terror found him then, and weary as he was, fear lent his feet wings and he nearly flew down the slopes the last remaining distance to his village.

There was no village to be seen. A smoking ruin stood in its place. What had once been his home was no more. Amongst the charred embers were dozens of blackened corpses. The stench of burnt flesh was everywhere.

The cry that he gave when he came upon the burnt corpse of his adopted mother was like the howl of a maddened beast. There was naught of humanity in it. It was the primordial scream of a creature pushed beyond the limits of its own endurance, the sound of a man whose mind has snapped and whose soul is shattered.

Even in his madness, he knew what had happened. Though he'd carefully extracted an oath that the elder dragon should never harm him, he had made no such bargain for his village. The elder dragon in his fierce hatred for the human that had escaped him had taken its vengeance upon his homeland and family. He had been the cause of the death of them all!

He made then no rash vows of vengeance such as other men might make in such a moment. He cried no curses, nor made prayers to departed spirits. He only gazed back in the direction of the dragon-caves, his blue eyes aflame with a savage and fearsome light. And then he started back the way he came. There was no hesitation in his step, and no indecision in his mind. A short, crimson road stretched ahead of him now, he knew, and surely naught but death awaited him at its end.

6.

Yana, the Dragon Queen, sat amidst a tableau of glittering splendor. Sipping delicate amber wine from a hand-carved crystal goblet, her left hand played idly in a bowl of polished rubies. She let the gems drip from her fingers like drops of glittering blood and smiled, as if thinking some secret thought.

Mantegor, the last member of his tribe, looked upon the Dragon Queen and hated her. Whatever happened now, he was resolved to carry his plan to fruition. She was as cruel and heartless a beast as the Elder Dragon. She deserved no mercy. He had no pity for her. His heart had grown as cold and hard as the winter snows of his homeland. Only death resided in his eyes.

Noiselessly, he crept from his hiding place. Like a crouching panther, he stalked her. Her laughter echoed through the chamber.

"So you've returned," she spoke in a low whisper as she rose from her chair. "Did you think I didn't know you were there spying on me?"

"You killed my mother, and my friends! You slaughtered my people!" cried Mantegor.

"Nay!" said the dragon queen. "It was the treasure you stole from us which brought doom to your village. Zhyrtuk warned you that the treasure was accursed, but you wouldn't listen!"

"We are ancient beings, Mantegor," sighed Yana. "You violated our home, stole from us, and even threatened our lives. By the laws of your own people, we could have claimed blood vengeance upon you for any of these acts. Yet we withheld that vengeance and left you to your petty treasure."

Mantegor ignored her. In his blood madness he had lost any semblance of reason.

"Mankind has suffered your kind to live long enough," he snarled. "The age of the serpent is over. Your ancient and terrible knowledge, your glib and treacherous tongue which betrays men so easily to their doom; all these things shall perish this day!"

"You're a fool! Know you that even though rightful vengeance was ours to take, it wasn't Zhyrtuk or I who brought doom upon your home and its people. It was your own carelessness. Not all the dragons near Dragonmount are under Zhyrtuk's command, and many have good cause for their hatred of men. They came to know your smell and they tracked your scent across the fields of ice and snow, and thus they came upon your home. You are yourself to blame for your people's slaughter."

"Your words are filled with deceit as is your form," cried Mantegor. "I'll listen no more!"

Yana took on her dragon shape then, towering above him in reptilian magnificence. Her eyes were lit with crimson fires. She reared high, as if preparing to incinerate the puny insect that stood before her.

He stood laughing madly, prancing before the dragon like an excited child.

"Your last moments have found you," he said. "Prepare to die!"

It was then that Zhyrtuk made his reappearance, rising up to stand between Mantegor and the she dragon.

"It is I whose blood is destined to stain that blade," said Zhyrtuk, "And I have come to keep my appointment with fate."

Mantegor made no reply. Flinging open his cloak, he took the short throwing spear that he had concealed there. He knew he had time for only one desperate cast before the flames of the dragon incinerated him. The spear left his hands, a whispering streak of shadow.

The roar of the dragon was like that of a demon howling in the pits of the underworld, an echo of every primordial rage since the beginning of time. Mantegor covered his ears as the scream of the dragon's fury rocked the mountain. The cave was consumed in flames. But Mantegor had come prepared for this. He had soaked his cloak with water and filled its lining with chunks of ice before entering the dragon's lair. He ducked beneath the flames now, covering his body with the wolf-skin cloak. He heard the hairs being singed and felt the heat on his back, but he was unharmed by the dragon fire.

Now came the last desperate act. He vanished into one of the smaller passageways, knowing Zhyrtuk would take a few moments to regenerate his flames. The caverns were filled with smoke. The dragon queen's precious furnishings were burning, he thought, smiling grimly to himself. He soon emerged onto the slopes below the dragon caves once more. But he knew he was no safer here than in the dragon's lair. Within moments, Zhyrtuk would be upon him.

Mantegor raced down the slopes, leaping from boulder to boulder like a great cat. A hideous roar warned him that the Elder Dragon had found him once more. Worse, answering roars from the surrounding caves meant that other dragons were being roused as well. He reached the bottom of the slope and began to climb the steep, rock-strewn cliff face that led up to the peak of Dragonmount. Swiftly he rose. But the Elder Dragon was fast at his heels. For all his bulk, he seemed unimpeded by the steep slope.

Again the Elder Dragon's roar warned him. Fire coursed over the mountainside. Mantegor dove between the stones, but his cloak was in flames. He threw it aside, still ablaze, and raced once more up the mountainside, his hair singing from the heat of the inferno that surrounded him. The ground was nearly molten, blistering his feet even through the thick leather soles of his sandals.

He turned. The Elder Dragon was just below him, preparing to hurl another barrage of flames across the mountainside. A number of other dragons were also climbing the slopes behind him, including several larger firedrakes. Mantegor laughed hugely and uproariously. The action prompted the Elder Dragon to halt in his charge. He peered upward to perceive the tiny human figure silhouetted against the sky, and just in time to see his doom cascading towards him.

It had taken Mantegor nearly two days to balance the huge mass of rocks that now hurtled down the slopes. There was a roar as if the world was ending and huge clouds of dust shrouded the sky. The Elder Dragon had no chance to avoid the ensuing avalanche. He was swiftly swept under by the river of stone. Seconds later, Zhyrtuk lay at the bottom of the mountain, most of his sinuous form buried beneath the heavy, broken stones. Several of the other dragons had also been swept under by the sudden conflagration. The rest had retreated to a safer distance.

Swiftly Mantegor raced down the slope. The Elder Dragon continued his efforts to free himself. Mantegor leapt the last remaining yards, the sword in his hand an arc of glittering steel as it descended towards the Elder Dragon's serpentine neck. The razor-sharp steel bit deep into the coiled muscles that protected the dragon's throat, half severing it. A gout of hot black blood splashed over Mantegor's arms and shoulders.

It was over. The Elder Dragon lay dying at his feet. He peered up at his slayer. "So I die at last," he said. "Killed by the one I showed mercy, just as was prophesied."

7.

Mantegor struggled to rise. The steep mountain slopes were washed in the bright haze of the afternoon sun. The she dragon Yana met him and towered above him, her claws like huge daggers, and he knew that here was his death at last. He was bleeding from a score of minor wounds, and far too weary to fight anymore.

"So you have slain him, just as he predicted," she said. "He had hoped to avoid his death, but it seems that even dragons cannot change their fate."

The dragon queen bowed her great silver-scaled head, and suddenly she was a dragon no more. A beautiful golden haired maiden stood before him, and she was just as she had been when he'd first seen her.

He lowered his sword. Despite knowing what she was and what she was capable of becoming, when he saw her once more like this as the woman he had loved, he couldn't bring himself to strike at her with the blackened and bloodied blade in his hand.

"I told the truth," she said. "Zhyrtuk was blameless, and your revenge upon him was unjustified. We are all compelled by a will that is not our own," she said. "Zhyrtuk was old, and very wise, yet even though he saw his own death coming at your hands, he could do naught to avoid it."

Mantegor frowned, and sheathing the blade in its scabbard.

"Is the dragon's treasure truly accursed?" he asked.

"It appears so," and she laughed, though there were tears streaming from her golden hued eyes. "It brings misfortune even to dragons, for today it brought death to my father."

"I see now that I may long rue my actions this day," he sighed. "But it seems that men and dragons are ever bound to clash, and always will be so long as there reside so great a number of murderous beasts amongst you."

"And what say you of human greed which has led to this end?" she asked. "What of the hordes of bloodthirsty men who hunt the dragon for their blood and bones and teeth, slaying them not because they're hungry or defending themselves or their young, but because they long to wield magical powers! The dragons of the world are being slain to please the spells of moldering old wizards and the despotic warlords they serve. The south lands are empty now of dragon kind and the riches that men have ravaged from their hoards have caused naught but grief in the world, for they have been used for building great warships and ballistic machines and for the arming of countless fighting men. Men are directed like puppets to kill and die so that kings can have larger kingdoms. And kings vie with each other endlessly to gain more of the dragons' former hoards, those long accursed treasures!"

"Shingar told me that the treasures were accursed," Mantegor admitted. "I didn't listen to him . Now I wish I had."

"Men and dragons are more alike than either would like to believe."

"Yet we seem destined to continually battle," said Mantegor.

Her green eyes stared deeply into his. "There has long been a legend that a mortal man would bring an end to the war between dragons and men. Zhyrtuk thought you might be that man."