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Graymore is a dragon hunter
Those dragons! They drew Graymore to themselves like a magnet.
The blood of dragons drew her from a distance. And now she felt a dragon at her side. Well, not exactly near. It was somewhere on the edge of the kingdom. Graymore’s secret vision immediately awoke, and she stopped listening to the ambassador, who had arrived with some sort of report and was now reading it out. The dragon is near, and she sits idle. It is time to grab her bow and sword.
The dragon’s fiery blood drew her like a magnet. Its distant scent served as a stimulant. Not because the dragon was hurt, but because everything in Graymore flashed at the feeling of having a dragon near. And its veins flowed with spontaneous blood.
There was a prophecy that the mountain dragon would be her destiny. Probably it was because from its scales she would make a perfect chain-mail for herself and become a great knight. Everyone knows that armor made of dragon scales cannot be penetrated by arrows or blades and does not burn. She needs such armor, which means she must capture the dragon. With dragon armor, she will become a great knight who can fight not only dragons but armies of men alone, and only such a knight can rule a kingdom.
That is how Graymore interpreted the prophecy. She would have to marry one of her cousins who would become king. And she wanted to rule herself. She didn’t want a husband who would limit her power at all. To be an autocrat-that is the main goal! And for that she would have to try and prove herself a true heroine.
It was a pity that not all dragons were suited to be skinned and fitted with ideal armor. She needed a special dragon whose scales would not fade after they were flayed from the skin. Graymore had already checked all the dragons she had captured. Once she peeled back the colorful scales, they faded and became colorless. So these dragons are no good. She would have to look for a special one. She wondered if there was a dragon like that nestled on the fringes of her domain. He was in a province somewhere, just outside the southern ridge of the mountains. Graymore was trying to pinpoint its exact location when heralds announced an urgent messenger.
It is a dragon! It is on the southern border of Livellin! It has burned the vineyards and wineries of your subjects, dried with its breath several rivers, destroyed the frontier fort, and neighbors say that before it flew to us, it incinerated a small country by the sea.»
Graymore wondered:
«Did the dragon make demands? Had he bewitched someone to deliver an ultimatum through his lips? Did he demand that cattle or innocent girls be sacrificed to him?»
Usually dragons demanded a dozen sheep a week and a few virgins for a snack. The scholars were certain that dragons needed virgins to perform witchcraft rituals.
Whether dragons knew how to conjure by performing rituals, Graymore did not know. But they did possess a certain ability to perform enchantments. Usually all of their witchcraft talents were limited to suggestion. They could hypnotize a man with one look. But when Graymore looked the dragons in the eye, they had no power over her. It was the further proof that she was bewitched.
«The dragon has not yet made any demands, Your Highness… I mean, majesty,» the messenger did not know how to address her. The formalities were of no concern to Graymore. She will be crowned in due course. She will prove to all that she is capable of reigning alone.
But why did the boundary dragon have power over her? She burned with the feeling that he was close. She was drawn to him as if he was a lover, and yet he was a rival. With every dragon Graymore fought as if she were fighting for power. If she lost once, she would lose her chance to rule the kingdom. But she cannot lose, for she is enchanted.
«I promise to solve the dragon problem,» she waved graciously at the messenger. «Go back to your own land, and tell the people have nothing to fear.»
«But there are none left, my lady. They are all burnt!»
So they are! Graymore tapped the armrests of the throne with annoyance.
The mesmerizing voice in her brain sounded more insistent.
«Come to me!»
Graymore felt her body being caressed by streams of flame. They were no longer burning, but pleasurable. She basked in them as in a warm, fragrant bath.
The fire around her body was invisible, or the messenger and the ambassador, whose report had been indelicately interrupted, would have run away screaming.
«It’s dangerous, my lady!» muttered the messenger. «All those who went to scout have not returned. Many of the glorious knights were left with only burned armor.»
«Mountain dragons are usually full of treasure,» said Graymore dreamily. She was not afraid of being burned. When has a single dragon ever been able to fight her? She alone is stronger than all of them.
«There was probably an exception waiting ahead.»
There was that intrusive voice in her brain again!
Graymore focused her attention on the messenger. He was shabby and frightened.
«Have you come to ask for help?»
«Yes, my lady!»
«Well, I assure you of it.»
«But you’re not going to fight him yourself, are you, my lady?» The messenger blushed to his ears and shrank back. «I hear you are a great champion of dragons.»
«And you doubt I can defeat a dragon?»
«Well,» the messenger blushed even more. «You are not the giantess I was told you were. You’re just a pretty lady.»
«Go on, scram!» Graymore was furious. «You’ll find out how fearsome pretty ladies can be!»
The ambassador thought it best to go away. Immediately Graymore regretted her overreaction. She should have had the poor man fed in the palace kitchen and given him a bed for the night. It was clear from his emaciated appearance that he had been running for days.
And why did one dragon seem more dangerous to him than a pack? He should have seen the recent dragon raid on the capital of Livellin! He must have slept through every dragon attack. There’d been a few in recent years. If this was the first dragon he’d ever seen in his life, then no wonder he’d be so startled.
She’d seen enough dragons herself. They don’t scare her. Though there was something peculiar about this dragon. Graymore could feel him at a distance, and fire coursed through her veins.
«Come to me, Princess!»
The voice was in her mind’s throat, sticky as honey. It made it impossible to think of anything else but one dragon in particular. Graymore did not hear the ambassador’s speech continue. She dreamed of the monster in scales waiting for her in the mountains. Their battle would probably resemble a love match. This dragon smells her at a distance, as she does him.
So why has he not come to attack the capital if he needs her so much?
Skeleton Advisor
The skeleton was waiting for her in the tower. It was dressed in a sumptuous purple robe and crown, as if it were the ruler of a kingdom. The great wizard’s body had long since rotted away, but the skeleton remained. Sometimes he came back to life and even spoke, but no one knew about it except Graymore.
If she needed advice, she went to the skeleton. So today she went up to the tower for advice. The skeleton, which had been sitting motionless, immediately came to life as soon as Graymore crossed the threshold of the old tower. The jewels glittered enticingly in his bony hands, as if beckoning: try to rip them off me, and then the skeleton’s hand will strangle you.
Graymore had no use for the dead wizard’s jewels. But a footman who once tried quietly to remove a heavy gold chain with a medal from the skeleton’s neck was found strangled. No one had cleaned the tower since. Cobwebs stretched across the walls in festoons. Even the murky gold-framed mirror, thought to be magical, was covered in a thick layer of dust and draped in cobwebs.
The magician’s skeleton itself, barely alive and moving, began hastily shaking the cobwebs from his hands and crushing the spiders. Graymore turned away. The sight of a living skeleton catching the insects that crawled into the tower was not pleasant.
The skeleton already knew why she had come, and smirked defiantly with a lipless mouth. How not to gloat! The ruler of Livellin could not do without his advice. Graymore wasted no time in long formulas of politeness and asked at once:
«Tell me, should I go on the hunt for the dragon that lodges in the provinces near the mountains?»
«Do you have a choice?» The skeleton was already aware of the unusual dragon. Though the magical observation mirror was covered in cobwebs, and the dead man knew exactly what it could show.
«No, I don’t!» Graymore felt herself burning from within. If she did not set out to catch the dragon, she would go mad with searing pain.
«Then why do you ask, when you already know the answer?»
The skeleton’s squeaky voice was very insolent. Graymore didn’t like the dead wizard’s self-confidence. She wanted to challenge him, and she didn’t dare. To behave boldly with him was to call trouble on the whole kingdom.
«Perhaps the dragon would come here instead of settling near the mountains.»
«I don’t think so. It would wait there.»
«Is he waiting? But for whom is he waiting?»
«What if it’s you, Princess?»
«Don’t joke!»
The skeleton fell silent.
«Why do I suffer pains of fire when dragons approach?»
«It is because you are a true dragon hunter.»
«No, I’ve been bewitched, so I can’t stand the pain of being near raptors. You probably did it. And the goal was to turn me into a dragon myself, but it didn’t work. Instead of being attracted to their nature, I feel the excitement of war with them.»
«Or perhaps you burn from their proximity, waiting for one of the dragons to become your lover?»
«Will he be my lover? Don’t joke! They are monsters!» She remembered the dream – an elf with fiery breath.
«What if it’s destiny!» insisted the dead wizard.
«It is better death in battle with dragons than such a fate.»
«Then kill the next of them! Perhaps this way you will change your fate. Lover or corpse, the choice is yours. After all, you are the ruler of these lands.»
«But I feel I am under a spell, as if they’re throwing me into a fire to make me fight the dragons,» Graymore complained again.
The skeleton hummed. There was something he wasn’t telling her.
«Would you like me to wipe the mirror so it can show us what’s going on in my domain? Perhaps it could show us the future, too, if you ask it?»
«Ask it yourself. I don’t have to,» the skeleton protested.
«You mean you won’t help?»
Graymore was angry. In his lifetime, this wizard must have been insolent and cowardly. Even her father had worshipped his skeleton as a deity to ask for advice. Now it was her turn to beg. It’s awkward for a princess to beg the advice of a dead man, but what can you do!
Graymore took a precious hoop of emeralds, rubies, and sapphires from the folds of her cloak. It resembled a royal crown. A skeleton needs an offering, or he will lie and twist rather than give a straight answer. Such is the wicked nature of every soothsayer. You don’t bring the gift, you don’t get the right prophecy.
«Is that enough to make you kinder?»
Graymore handed the dead mage a crown, which he promptly snatched from her hand and placed on his bald skull.
«Perfect! I am like a king of wizards!» The skeleton gazed in rapt fascination in the mirror, where the cobwebs slid off and the dust vanished. «I am a beauty! I look like death with a scythe! That’s what I always wanted to be!»
How can you be glad to be a skeleton! Graymore did not understand it. The only creatures she liked were those that were pleasing to look at. It was except perhaps for dragons. Though they looked as magnificent as jewels, they were not to be admired. They had to be hunted before they crushed her entire kingdom with their raids.
«I was born in a bad country,» Grahamor complained, rubbing her long dark curls. «There are predators everywhere! There are dragon nests on every border! In the south of Livellin, no one has ever heard of dragons. An envoy from the Southern Kingdom last year reported they had never been raided.»
«Perhaps his king has a pact with dragons,» the skeleton said thoughtfully.
«Is that possible?»
«It is if you pay tribute.»
«Are there goats, sheep, buffalo, cows, partridges, and young virgins?» Graymore exhaled noisily. This was a trap she had fallen into before, as had her father. «Once they’d had enough, they’d still fly to scorch the cities they’d sent tribute from. Dragons are dishonorable!»
«But there is one thing they do respect.»
«And what is that?»
«It is treasure!» The skeleton’s eyes gleamed with the empty eyes that held two tiny diamonds. «Offer them gold and jewels, and you will buy their favor.»
«For how long is it?»
«It all depends on the portion of the jewels.»
«And once they decide there’s not enough treasure, how will they break the agreement and attack again? Better to fight them with steel than to offer them gold.»
«An agreement built on gold they will not break.»
«Are they that greedy?»
«When it comes to precious metals, it’s not just their greed that becomes excessive. A hypnotic attraction to gold and jewels awakens in them. Give them more and more precious trinkets, and they go into ecstasy, poring over them and counting to infinity.»
«So they’re attracted to Livellin’s coffers!» Gryamore guessed. «That’s why they come here all the time.»
«It is not only that! There are more treasures in other realms than yours. There is another treasure,» the skeleton became tense and clutched at the armrests of the chair he sat on. «It is you!»
He pointed his bony hand toward Graymore.
«Why is it me?» the princess struggled feverishly to remove her precious rings and bracelets. «Is it because of the abundance of jewelry on me? It is etiquette to wear them, so that all the ambassadors can see how rich Livellin is by my example.»
«Leave the trinkets! Whether you take it off or not won’t make any difference. Dragons will still be drawn to you. It’s as if there’s a vein of gold inside you. Even I can feel the gold shining through your skin. There are creatures with gold blood, you might be one of them.»
Graymore wasn’t about to take a dagger and slash herself to find out.
«And what explains the dragon’s fondness for gold and gems?»
«It is an ancient legend. Legend has it that dragons are servants of a solar deity who rebelled in the heavens. As soon as it fell, the light of the sun fell to earth with it and turned into gold-bearing veins and deposits of precious stones. So gold reminds the dragons of their period of greatness. They were not yet monsters then.»
«It is interesting!» Graymore looked at the magical mirror. It was trying to show something. In it glimpsed dense forests and strange creatures galloping through the thicket. It seemed to be fairies. Graymore had never yet communicated with magical creatures. She ruled the land of humen. Only rarely did she get to see fairies, nymphs, and mermaids from afar. In the old days, there had been more of them in Livellin than there had been people, but now almost the entire population was human.
«If you see a golden statue of a dragon god in the forest or mountains, flee from it! It’s probably alive and bloodthirsty, though very beautiful,» warned the skeleton in an admonishing tone.
«Is it a statue of a dragon? Or of a man covered in scales?»
«It’s a statue of an angel.»
Graymore exhaled in amazement.
«So the appearance of a deity is a trick to trap?»
«You could say that. It is her original form.»
«Did you say hers and not his?»
«Yes, their deity wears a maiden face, but it is deceptive.»
«Does she turn into a dragon?»
«No, but she breathes fire. Her worshippers use the sickle as an instrument of murder and sprinkle the blood of their victims over the withered fields to summon her. Once the blood is spilled over them, black rye will grow in the fields, producing monsters that will point to where her living statue stands.»
«What is all this for?»
«To bring the apocalypse closer and the arrival of her full power over a ruined world. There are many of her admirers in your country.»
«I don’t know about her. They honor the queen of the fairies, whom no one has ever seen, the elf king, who only came to visit my father, and the horned goddess of the looking glass, the sparkling goddess of the moon and stars, the goddess of the rainbow, and the gods of war. I revere the latter the most. War is my calling.»
«It is only with dragons!» stressed the skeleton.
«Only dragons attack in more recent times.»
Many hunters for easy money went to war against Livellin. It’s a rich country. Why do you think there aren’t as many people conquering the country?»
«I don’t know!»
«There’s something evil in the country. It’s black and dark. Even I feel bad about it, though I’m almost a black wizard myself. It is almost… Sometimes I can do good things. I give advice to you. You’re sweet and young and unspoiled. You could easily be seduced by bad advice, but I refrain from it.»
«I carry presents for you.»
«Gifts are worthless. They are only a courtesy. There are many sorcerers who would cheat you and kill you for your own gifts.»
«Are not one of them?» Graymore teased him.
«You are still alive and well and unaffected by evil spells.»
«I feel like I burn alive when a dragon flies near my borders. Many would say that is the spell. I have been bewitched! I have been thrust into a quest to fight monsters in which I may die.»
«You can’t!» The skeleton’s eye was the judge of that. «You have special blood. Golden blood is the symbol of chosen one.»
«Should I go after the special dragon, or should I sit in my castle and wait until he gets here?»
«I told you he’s not coming here.»
«Why is it not? Is that what the mirror says?» Graymore, no matter how hard she looked, all she saw in the mirror was wild woods. There was no writing on the glass which told her fate. Apparently, the skeleton wizard saw more.
«I’m drawn to this strange dragon,» Graymore admitted.
«Is it more than to other dragons?»
«It is much more! Could he be the death to me?»
«You are nineteen years old! It is not yet time to die!»
«There was a queen in my family who drowned when she was nineteen. They say she became a mermaid.»
«More like a mistress of watermen.»
Graymore was embarrassed. The skeleton knew something compromising about her ancestors. He himself had lived nearly a hundred years before he took poison in that tower and became a dead counselor to the kings of the Livellin dynasty.
«Will you not help me make my decision?»
«You must make it yourself.»
«But I brought you a hoop. You took it, so you must pay for it,» she reminded him.
For a moment the skeleton stared into the mirror, silently, and surely he saw something there that Graymore herself did not see.
«If you go, you solve all your doubts, if you stay, you betray yourself and scold yourself,» he admonished.
«You are a slacker! I knew that.»
«But it’s the only sensible advice I can give you.»
Graymore stomped her foot. She felt like yelling at the dead advisor, but that wasn’t wise. Fighting with a wizard, even a dead one, was too dangerous.
«Well, thank you!» She said. «I hope your advice will be more meaningful next time.»
«There won’t be a next time,» the skeleton called out to her at the exit.
«Why is it not?» Graymore looked around with interest.
«This dragon is your destiny.»
«What do you mean by that?»
The skeleton made no reply, but in the mirror she flashed a glimpse of the most beautiful dragon Graymore had ever seen in her life. He had burned an entire horde of goblins. They were coming to sort things out with him over territories. One dragon’s breath was enough to take them all out. And with such a dragon she would have to fight! Admiration and martial spirit struggled within Graymore.
«He burned a kingdom the other day,» the skeleton reminded her.
«I know.»
«If you don’t go to him, next time he might burn the whole of Livellin. He’s got the strength for it.»
Now, that was an ultimatum, coming from a skeleton. Graymore is sick and tired of the dead wizard speaking in riddles.
«I’ll go!» She made up her mind.
Graymore unfastened the ruby belt around her hips, threw a cascade of dark serpentine curls behind her back, and showed her tongue to the sleepy magic mirror, which stubbornly refused to show her dragon a second time.
«Remember the golden statues of the dragon deity,» the skeleton warned her as she grasped the doorjamb. «It sleeps in the thicket, but you cannot go near it. If you go near it, you might not survive. It is unless your blood is indeed golden. Then you are a chosen one.»
Graymore nodded dryly.
«I have noted all the instructions. Is there anything else?»
But the skeleton was already asleep. He looked dead and motionless. She could no longer believe that he had been alive and talking, even arguing with the ruler a moment ago.
The magical mirror showed a picture of a dragon massacre of some village that did not belong to Livellin’s domain. Graymore could see the stranger’s banner. Knights tried to defend the village, but they failed. One dragon was stronger than all of them. Had they known that one girl could be stronger than an entire army! But they did not have her support, so they died in dragon fire.
«Someday dragons will do to you what you did to them,» the mirror whispered.
The horned fairy of the looking-glass must be joking with her. Though is she capable of speaking through a magic mirror? She usually lives in ordinary mirrors, not magic mirrors.
«You do not know how to distinguish friend from foe,» whispered the ghostly lips, traced on the amalgam.
The skeleton adviser did not respond to the whispers, so Graymore decided to ignore them as well. Everyone knows that the spirits of the looking-glasses deliberately mess with the heads of people who stare in the mirror. That’s why you can’t look in mirrors for long, or the ghosts will drive you crazy.
Graymore slammed the tower door as she went, and dozens of spiders spilled from the jamb to the hem of her dress. The tower had long resembled a tomb. And no wonder! After all, the skeleton counselor sat there.
It was time to learn to live without his advice. Her only real friend and advisor was her battle sword. In anticipation of the dragon hunt, Graymore remembered it. The sword had never failed her, and magicians and magic mirrors could lie.
Golden Laurel
The spring archery contest was held according to all the rules. The winner of it would be proclaimed a hero for the day. A wreath of golden laurel would adorn the winner’s head.
Graymore had won the archery contest for many years in a row. Regular practice with marksmanship and concentration had helped her win.
The hunt for the dragon was postponed for exactly one day only because of the contest. If she did not win it, she would not be allowed to go into the woods. How can you hunt a monster of prey if you can’t even win a shooting tournament?
She won the first rounds, but there are more difficult tests ahead. One target succeeds another. The competitors are as talented as she is. She has to beat them all. Graymore was as nervous as a needle. And you can’t get nervous or you’ll miss. Anyone who gets nervous loses their aim. You have to be cool and calculating so your hand doesn’t shake when you shoot.
«Look! She wins again!» Some ladies gathered by the grove, pointing their hands at her. Their manners were a little too plain. They must have come from the country. Graymore almost dropped her bow and arrow when she noticed, from the corner of her eye, that the ladies were true fairies. They were huddled in the shade of laurel trees. They were wearing wreaths of thyme and eucalyptus leaves. All winged! Their bare feet did not touch the ground, and their dresses were woven of grass and leaves.
What a sight! Fairies flew in from the fields to look at her. Apparently she was becoming a legend.
Graymore took aim at the apple, which she wanted to knock down in a swoop so that it would break into even halves. The squire was already tossing it in the air. The arrow, released from the bowstring, split the apple in a fraction of a second. In the next round it would be necessary to knock down several apples at once with a single shot. And then you have to shoot blindfolded. Graymore only had one minute of breathing room.
