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    Killer of Dragons
    Killer of Dragons
    Killer of Dragons
    Ebook149 pages2 hours

    Killer of Dragons

    By Shaun Kilgore

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    About this ebook

    Aryon Grayse was a dreamer, always thinking of faraway places and adventures. While wandering a lonely stretch of beach, he sees something gleaming from the top of a mount of black stone. A silver rod aglow with a mystical light draws him in. He touches it and all goes dark. When he awakens, he finds the mountain has vanished. Aryon rushes home, but is too late. His home is destroyed and his family dead.

    Coming to believe that his strange encounter on the beach was the cause, Ayron leaves to find the silver rod. He meets a nobleman named Tyrus Baranathes who tells him that he has released a creature of legend, the Drakanspawn or dragon, from its long slumber. Only Aryon can defeat the beast. To do that, he must become a Killer of Dragons.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherFounders House Publishing LLC
    Release dateAug 21, 2015
    ISBN9781310721359
    Killer of Dragons
    Author

    Shaun Kilgore

    Shaun Kilgore is the author of various works of fantasy, science fiction, and a number of nonfiction works. His books appear in both print and ebook editions. He has also published numerous short stories and collections. Shaun is the editor of MYTHIC: A Quarterly Science Fiction & Fantasy Magazine. He lives in eastern Illinois.

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      Killer of Dragons - Shaun Kilgore

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      Table of Contents

      Copyright Information

      About the Author

      CHAPTER ONE

      The skies were blotted out by the hulking shadows of monstrous storm clouds as they rolled inland off the turbulent waters of the Barrier Sea. The sun, too, was consumed by the thick, roiling masses so that an early darkness fell among those of us who dwelled in the village. The rumbles of thunder were slow and deep, resonating through my chest and through the wood fence behind me. Mara huddled closer, wrapping her little arms around my waist. I patted her head, trying to console her.

      The first flashes of lightning emanated from the heart of the clouds, forking across the bottom surfaces of the clouds, casting strange, frightening shadows. I stared and thought I could see a shape, something, twisting and writhing in the black clouds.

      Come along, Aryon.

      I looked down the cow path. Mother had stopped several paces ahead. She cradled little Jak in one arm and a basket of carrots and potatoes in the other. I realized I had sat down my own baskets filled with the groceries and produce we had purchased at the market. I drew up the burdens and started walking. Mara continued glancing up at the skies, eyes wide and nervous.

      Do you think we might be struck by lightning, Aryon? Shouldn’t we get inside? It’s not safe out here, is it?

      Shh. We’ll be fine, rabbit. Just stay by me, okay.

      Mara sighed, swallowing the lump in her throat and gripping my arm all the tighter.

      We stepped away from the rickety fence and took to the cow path, moving quickly to catch up with mother and Jak. The lightning flashed, lighting up the knobby hills and dry, wispy grass so we could at least see well enough to make good time. Mother occasionally glanced overhead but did not slow down even a little.

      The cow path started to curve around one of the small hills and we passed the last of the huts, which marked the border of the village. The old place, empty since Norick Benly left during the summer, had fallen in to disrepair so that the thatched roof was loose and sinking in several places. Such a sad thing to see an empty house with no light and no life to fill it. Mother had remarked much the same when we had been to market the last time. She hadn’t mentioned it yet.

      Thunder boomed loudly. Mara dug her fingernails into my arm and stopped dead. I nearly lost the basket I was carrying.

      Now what did you do that for?

      Mara’s eyes were if anything wider than before and she was slowly shaking her head. I don’t like thunder, Aryon. I...I...hate it.

      Then let’s get going. We’re almost there, rabbit.

      I started again and had to drag her after me. She came along but was muttering under her breath about the faces in the storm clouds. She was trembling but plodding forward on unsteady legs. Her shoes scuffed against the hard dirt, at times tripping over the clumps of grass. I adjusted my grip on the basket and kept to the path. Mother and Jak were further ahead. The first drops of rain fell.

      Mara squealed and darted off, relinquishing her steely grip on my tender arm. She ran straight for mother and pressed up against her. Jak dangled from her left arm, probably lulled to sleep during their time in the market that day. I watched them pick up speed so they could reach our house before the rain increased.

      A brilliant flash of lightning illuminated everything around me so I could seen the clumps of trees perched on the tops of the hills beyond the path and the lights of the scattered houses that were nestled on the outskirts of the village. The thunder boomed and lingered ominously in the air around me like the growls of some menacing monster out of one of my mother’s bedtime stories. Fat drops of rain splattered everywhere, dampening my hair and coat in patches. A few yards away, the others were turning down the gravel road to our tiny house. Though little more than a hut, it was warm and dry. I caught up with them just as mother was opening the door. Mara squeezed past her. The rain was falling steadily and I was shivering from the cold. The heat from the fire was a welcome relief.

      Aryon, bring the basket in here and put everything in the larder.

      I peeled off my damp coat and set it close to the hearth. I went about emptied both baskets, placing most of the late season produce from the market in the larder. Mother put Jak in his crib. Afterwards, I retrieved a few cords of wood from the bin and built the fire back up. The evenings were getting colder now that full autumn had closed in over the lands straddling the coast. The Barrier Sea was only a few scant miles over more of the rolling hillocks. The seabirds wheeled about in the air above the house, occasionally swooping down to snatch up some of the scraps I fed our pigs.

      During fairer weather I often ventured to the beach to search for shells in the wet sand or in hopes of catching a glimpse of the merchant ships that hugged the coastline on their journeys to the Cape of Shalan and to strange exotic places farther away. Places out of stories and myths. Places I would never see. Mother called me a dreamer when I spoke of the things I imagined while moving amidst the crashing waves and being hypnotized by the pounding surf. I wanted adventures—the kind they told in the old stories.

      Mother was patient to a point though she grew less so the closer I came to my seventeenth naming day. She expected I would grow out of such fancies by now. More often these days, I kept my true thoughts to myself and did what was expected of me. I had responsibilities now, ones that should have been father’s but weren’t. He’d been gone almost a year now. No one was sure what happened to him. Alesander Grayse’s disappearance was a familiar local mystery, though some of the fisherman though maybe he’d walked into the sea.

      I blinked away the thoughts and expelled the discomforting feelings with a deep sigh. I turned my attention to the stoking the flames higher. The heat made me sweat now. I used the poker to stir the coals so the fresh wood could get enough air to really catch fire. Mother was already at work preparing dinner. She was chopping the potatoes and a few of the other withered vegetables. The larder was fully stocked now and they would need to choose which one of the pigs would be slaughtered for pork so we would have meat for the winter. At present, though, we were eating some of the fresh fish picked up in the village. Mother likely planned another of her tangy fish stews. Mara was sitting on the floor near the hearth, talking to her little rag dolls. The storm had been forgotten once they were safely inside though the occasional rumble of thunder made the house shudder around them.

      When the fire was blazing, I went to the water bucket and took a long drink. Dropping the ladle back in, I wiped the dribbles from my chin and left the kitchen and climbed the ladder to the loft where I slept. It wasn’t much but it was my space. A lamp had been left lit, though the wick was set low so it produced only a tiny bit of light to see by in the loft. The air was hotter. I went to my sleeping pallet and increased the lamplight. The change in illumination cast deep shadows over the crates filled with tattered books and my massive collection of shells. I cleared off the pallet and sprawled out. Pulling a book from the nearest pile I found the page I had left off from last night and read until I could smell the stew cooking down below.

      Aryon, supper is ready. Get down here while it’s hot!

      I tossed the book aside and clambered down the ladder. I reached the table in five short steps. Mara was already spooning the stew in her mouth hurriedly. Mother held a finger in Jak’s mouth. The boy was still drowsy, his eyes flickering open from time to time. Mother somehow held him so she could eat some stew. She’d feed him after everyone else was fed. I sat down, picked up the wooden spoon and ate the fish stew with relish. The spices and herbs enriched the flavor of the meat while cutting down the distinctive smell of the deep-water fish. The crusty bread she’d baked earlier that day was good for dipping into the creamy broth. I washed it all down with water and helped clear the table and clean the dishes.

      We settled in for another quiet evening, gathered near the hearth in cushioned chairs, me reading again by candlelight. Mara dozing off with her dolls.

      Aryon, can you put Mara to bed?

      I nodded. Mother was busy nursing Jak. Yep.

      Thank you, son.

      I sat my book down and went to where Mara was sleeping on the floor, using one of her rag dolls as a pillow, her mouth open wide. She was snoring softly.

      Come on, rabbit. You can’t sleep here.

      I carried her to the bed against the wall opposite the kitchen that she shared with mother. She muttered in her sleep but did not wake as I placed her on the mattress and drew the coverlet up to her chin. She sighed and rolled over. I brushed a lock of blond hair from her forehead.

      Goodnight, rabbit, I whispered.

      When I returned to my chair, Jak had finished nursing and was bundled up in his blankets cuddling with mother. She was in the maple rocking chair my father had made for her just before I was born. She was humming a soft, familiar song. I paused in front of her, smiled, and touched Jak’s cheek with my finger. He stirred his head but remained asleep. I sat down and picked up my book.

      Mother carefully stood and took Jak to his crib. When she returned she stopped next to me and ruffled my hair. You want some tea?

      I nodded. Yes, please.

      The storm died down. Mother rocked in her chair, darning socks from the wool we’d purchased weeks ago from Dane Walwar. I sipped my tea. I read from the book until my eyes grew heavy. Thoughts of tomorrow’s chores intruded until I finally gave up and closed the book. I sat there listening to the rain pattering against the thatch and the outside walls. No more thunder now.

      I stood up and stretched then went to tend the fire. The air was cooling off as the night grew colder. I pulled over a few of the thicker logs and reached into the fireplace. The heat off the hearth was intense. I winced and squinted my eyes, stacked up the logs, and shuffled the coals with the poker.

      Aryon, you need to get to bed.

      I know, mother. I’m heading that way right now.

      I walked over to her and leaned over to kiss her cheek. Goodnight.

      She kissed me back. Goodnight.

      I snatched my book from the table and climbed the ladder again into the loft. The lamp still glowed softly. The rain was louder above, but the steady thrumming was soothing. I yawned, rubbing my eyes before removing my clothes and climbing into my bed. Sleep came quickly, and with it, came strange dreams.

      * * *

      I found myself in a meadow slowly filling with creeping tendrils of fog. The

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