Island of Dragons - DRAFT - Chapter 1 – Shipwrecked (3408)

Chapter 1 –Shipwrecked (3408)

A broken ship floundered on the rocks, just visible in the mist. Its presence was more marked by the creaks and groans of its tortured hull as it was pulled apart. The fires were all out, but the clouds of smoke billowing from the ragged sails mixed with the fog, a black sooty stain on a white shroud.

On the beach, soaked in cold sea water, a man helped another man out of the surf. Further down, a child-like figure came towards them, appearing drenched and exhausted. The two men headed towards the child and met beside a fallen and sea-sodden tree.

The child like figure, in fact, was no child, but a tiny woman, not much more than three feet tall, young, but nonetheless an adult. The man who could stand was middle aged and bearded, the other was younger and dressed more like a sailor, with long hair tied back in a braided tail. The younger man was unconscious.

Two more men emerged from the fog, further down the beach. The first was a tall dark skinned fellow in blue robes that hung from him heavily, soaked as they were in water and caked in sand. He had gold and bejewelled rings on his fingers and amulets and talismans around his neck. He seemed lost and confused and as the other man came up on him, he put his arm around his shoulder and guided him towards where the others were. This other man was slight and dressed in brown leather. He was as wet and dishevelled as everyone else, but appeared alert and awake.

No one had spoken yet, they just eyed each other, panting, surprised to be alive. The bearded man was about to say something to the slight man when yet another ran past, towards one more that was staggering out of the sea. The running man, a middle aged sailor, ran into the surf and launched himself at the bedraggled, robed man, tipping them both back into the water in a confusion of limbs.

The sailor began to punch at the robed man as he struggled to get his head above the waves. The sailor landed a blow that split the man’s lip, but he gave no cry. On the edge of complete exhaustion and his lungs full of water, he did not have enough breath.

The bearded man and the slight man ran into the waves and each took an arm of the sailor, then dragged him off his victim.

‘It was him!’ yelled the sailor, the first to speak on the beach. ‘He brought it on us!’

‘Maybe, maybe, but save your strength,’ said the bearded man. ‘Whatever attacked us may still be out there. It is best to get to the trees and hide.’

‘All me mates are dead! Because of this wretch! Burned alive or drowned, all of them...’

The sailor choked on a sob, then opened his mouth and fiercely stroked the sides of his beard with his right hand.He then took a few steps into the sea, his body shaking from anxiety and fear. That way was only death and horror though so he turned and took several steps up the beach before stopping again. Anger and confusion visibly coursed through him.

‘What’s your name again?’ asked the bearded man, after a breath, as calmly as he could muster.

‘Salveri, my lord. Don’t worry I know who you are.’

‘Call me Roztov. Listen, can you take this young fellow to safety? GheneandTup can deal with Dreggen.Me and Meggelaineneed to look for more survivors.’

Roztov lifted up the unconscious young man and passed him over to Salveri, then nodded to the child-like young woman.

‘Come on, Meg.’

The man in the blue robes and the man dressed in leather picked up the one known as Dreggenand took him off to the tree line.

An hour later, they had lit a fire, about a hundred yards back from the beach, deep in the trees, just large enough to dry their clothes.

‘You have a wound on your back, Tup,’ said Ghene, the smaller man, using his friend’s nickname.

The dark skinned man was stripped down to his underwear, his robe hung over a bent stick. He looked over his shoulder and reached around to pat his back. He hissed when he found blood.

‘I didn’t feel a thing.’

‘It will be the cold,’ said Gheneas he came over to take a look at the wound.

Floran sat by the fire so that his friend could get a better look at it. Dreggen, sullen, had not taken off his robe and sat shivering some distance off. Salveri was nursing the younger sailor, whose name was Arrin, as he slowly came back to consciousness.

Salveri still seemed agitated, ready to lash out.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Ghene. ‘He’s fine. I took a look at him. The water is out of his lungs. All he needs now is rest.’

‘If you say so, my lord.’

Floran hissed again as Ghene laid his hands on the wound.

‘Druid magic,’ he sighed. ‘Why does it hurt so much?’

‘I’m bringing back feeling to your numb skin that’s why. Don’t be such a baby.’

‘Meggelaine has warmer hands.’

Once Ghene had finished with Floran he stood and walked over to Dreggen.

‘I’m fine,’ he said, holding up his hand as if to ward off the other.

‘Your lip is bleeding.’

‘Save your magic.’

Gheneshrugged and went back over to Floran and joined him by the fire.

The trees were tall, dark pines, thick and crowded. The fog barely penetrated into such a gloomy area. The light of the fire seemed to be swallowed in it. Spider’s webs could be glimpsed, wet and shining, in every branch. Drizzling rain was falling, but the ground was dry enough under the trees. The smell of the smoke mingled with the smell of pine needles, sap and the musty smell of wet men.

This place wasn’t much like the Great Forest, thought Gheneas he huddled up by the fire, with its huge nirrins and oaks. His home was an inland forest, it was much more open to the light.

There was some snow in the winter and the Great Forest was cold when the trees lost their leaves, but it never felt claustrophobic, not even in the summer when the trees were in full leaf. This place felt like the inside of a closet. The trees were more like the ones that grew in Roztov’s homeland, a mountainous region of steep sided valleys and harsh winters.

Floran sniffed and whipped his running nose with the palm of his hand. He then put more wood on the fire. He would be feeling the cold the most, hailing from Hyadna, he was accustomed to desert and jungle heat.

Ghenebroke up some of the large branches and threw a few more on the fire. As he did so Roztov and Meggelaine returned. Roztov had another of the sailors across his shoulders. Salveri and Ghenehelped lower him gently by the fire.

‘It’s Crab-pie,’ said Salveri. ‘The cook’s assistant.’

Crab-pie was thin in limb, but fat of belly and had a nose like an over-ripe strawberry. Roztov, Meggelaine and Ghene, all of them druids and healers, gathered over him.

Another person entered the camp, under her own steam, a large woman, dressed like a man. Her long black hair, usually tied back in a bun, was loose and lay across her shoulders in long wet coils. She cradled her right arm in her left.

‘You are alive, Salveri,’ she said.

‘And you Tankle.’

She seemed lost and distant, ‘I don’t know. I was so sure I was dead. Then two dolphins found me, and took me up to the surface. Magic. Druid magic. They were dolphins. Skin shifters. I’d heard of it, but never...’

She looked down at her left arm then said, ‘It’s broken.’

Roztov stood from where he had been kneeling with Meggelaine and Ghene.

‘Sit here,’ he said, drawing her to a fallen tree and propping her against it. He then began to gather up sticks and ivy vines. Tankle watched has he expertly wove them around her broken arm into a splint and then bound it to her body.

He then lay his hands on the arm and a feint blue glow gathered under them.

‘It hurts,’ she said placidly.

‘That’s because I’m bringing life back to it. Soon the pain will fade.’

She let out a long sigh and seemed to relax so much she was nearly asleep.

‘Just rest for now, young lady,’ said Roztov returning to where Crab-pie lay.

‘He’s dead,’ stated Meggelaine as he arrived.

‘Oh dear.’

‘It was too much for him,’ said Ghene. ‘I don’t think he was a very healthy sort to begin with. He was alive, but then his heart gave out. Now he has breathed his last.’

‘Well, let’s put him out of the way for now. I’ll go down to the sea again. Take one more look.’

‘Very well,’ said Ghene. ‘It will be dark soon though. We don’t know where we are or what attacked us. I’ve a feeling it would be safer inland.’

‘You are probably right,’ said Roztov sniffing the air. ‘I want to take one more look for Broddor though. There is no way that old bugger can be drowned dead.’

‘He would have sunk like a stone in all that armour.’

As he left them Roztov said over his shoulder, ‘They can swim in it apparently, or so I have heard.’

***

Broddor was lost, walking along a wide spit of sand, shrouded in fog. He could see nothing apart from the sand beneath his feet, out to about three yards. He could hear the sounds of the sea all around him.

‘Bastard,’ he grumbled to himself.

He paused and looked around, but there was nothing to see. The sand was creased, and water lay in the troughs. A crosswind blew rain into his face. His long white beard was being plastered into his mouth and eyes.

‘Rend migroven!’ he cursed again.

He still had his sword though, he still had his armour. Whatever lay ahead he would face it like a holy knight of Aerekrig. He quickened his step and walked on a further ten minutes until he was prevented going any further by a fast flowing river in the sand. He could see nothing else beyond it because of the fog.

‘By the name of Etruna!’ said a voice behind him, ‘Why are you going so fast when you don’t know where you are going?’

‘Ah! Roztov,’ he said, turning.‘Good to see you lad.’

‘Come on, we are back this way.’

Broddor was a vale dwarf from the same country as Roztov. They were old friends, the citadel of Kardane was on Roztov’s father’s land.

‘Who else survived?’

‘We all did, but most of the crew are dead. Three survive, and Dreggen.’

Broddor had begun to mutter ‘Blessed Be’ when he heard all his companions lived, but it had died on his lips when he heard of the crew. As he strode alongside Roztov he squinted up at him.

‘Dreggen. Did you see him? It was like he was calling the fire down on us. It ripped through the sails in seconds.’

‘I saw him.’

‘What do you think?’

Roztov shuddered and folded his arms close into his body and hunched his shoulders against the rain.

‘I’m not sure. I don’t think he has any magic. Not the kind I’m familiar with anyway. It looked like he was welcoming it, but maybe not causing it.’

‘This is why we came out this far though, eh lad? To see things that have not been seen before.’

Roztov smiled, in a pained sort of way, ‘I came because Ghene and Meg would be dead already without our help. They are a pair of idiots.’

‘True enough. And Tuppence is little better. Who would have thought they would get so soft.’

‘They were never that tough, just young. Well Ghene is still young I suppose.’

They walked on for a while longer, the sound of the sea faded and the sand became drier. Broddor was glad that the druid knew where he was going.

‘Who of the sailors survived? The big wench?’

‘Yes, her. Salveri and Arrin also.’

‘I can’t place them.’

‘Both topmen I think. That would be why we never saw much of them.’

Broddor fished his beard out of his mouth then said, ‘May account for them surviving. Salveri, is that the short thin man? Has a black beard and long hair tied back in a braid?’

‘You’ve just described about half the sailors on the ship there, but yes. He’s the one that with the broken nose and plays the squeeze-box when they start drinking. Arrin is much younger. Don’t ask me why but the younger ones shave the back of their heads. He’s blonde, skinny like all the fellows up in the tops.’

‘Right-o. Still can’t place him, if they were up in the sails then I suppose they would have jumped for it when the ship sunk.’

‘She didn’t sink though, Broddor. After you took your death leap off the prow we hit rocks. The fires went out, but she broke in half.’

‘Death leap? I saw something in the smoke and fog. A sea serpent.’

‘I don’t know how you have lived as long as you have. All I saw was you pound right past me at full tilt. You got halfway up the bowsprit before you fell in.’

 ‘Right. Well it’s done now. Where are we?’

‘Good question.’

It was dark by the time they got to the camp and the others. Broddor was welcomed with hugs and back slaps by Ghene and Meggelaine. The sailors, grieving, kept to themselves.

‘This forest is full of game,’ explained Ghene as he handed out roasted rabbit meat from the fire.

‘Aye, Roztov,’ put in Meg. ‘We’ve seen deer tracks, boars, tapir, rotroks. Oh, and vegetains.’

‘Rotroks? Huh. Seen any predator tracks?’

‘Nothing bigger than a cat.’

‘If rotroks live on this island then I doubt there is anything bigger than a fox here. Good news I suppose. We don’t need to worry about wolves or tigers.’

‘How do you know?’ asked Floran, the only person in the camp that knew nothing about the Diamond Sea.

‘They are just meals on legs. Giant shell-less turtles. If there was anything big enough here to eat them then they would all be eaten by now,’ explained Meggelaine. She had never been to the Diamond Sea before either, but had read about it in books. Indeed she had only seen a rotrok for the first time a few weeks ago back on Grenos.

The real authority on the region was Roztov, having travelled it before, but Meggelaine was always quicker with an opinion and besides she was right.

Roztov chewed on a bone in silence, the others could now see that something was bothering him.

‘You ponder something, Roz?’ asked Ghene.

‘Just thinking. While I was retrieving the dwarf, how far did you hunt?’

‘Not far, no more than a hundred yards from the camp. We bagged three rabbits and came back.’

Roz threw the bone on the fire and rubbed at his beard.

‘Huh. Deer and vegetains? That’s strange. Where the deer hoofs long and tapered or rounded?’

‘Rounded.’

‘At both ends?’

‘They were not goat tracks if that is what you are thinking.’

Roztov poked at the fire with his stick, ‘Perhaps I’ll take a look when it gets light.’

‘The tracks were like those of Great Forest red deer, if that’s any help, but shorter,’ put in Meggelaine.

‘Did you see vegetain dung?’

‘No, just tracks.’

‘Strange...’ murmured Roztov.

‘I agree,’ said Ghene.

‘No signs of vegetains in the trees then?’

‘No, just sign of their passing.’

‘Rotrok dung?’

‘Some, nothing remarkable about it. They eat the pine nuts.’

Over at the other side of the fire Floran whispered to Broddor, ‘What are they talking about? Don’t we have bigger concerns that the type of dung on display around here?’

‘I don’t know,’ shrugged the dwarf. ‘I suppose it is a druid thing. I have long since stopped giving it any thought to the strange things that interest them.’

‘And what’s avegetain?’

‘A sort of tree dwelling cow I’m led to believe.’

Meanwhile the druids continued.

‘Just because I didn’t see any wolf tracks doesn’t mean that there are none,’ continued Ghene.

‘True,’ conceded Rostov. ‘Wolves would be the expected apex predator this far north and I would expect them but for the presence of rotroks. But we must be on an island right? This is the Diamond Sea, you could hide an island but not a continent.’

‘I’ll bow to your expert knowledge on the region,’ replied Ghene.

‘But a surfeit of deer, vegetains, all the rest, it speaks of there being no predators around to control their numbers.’

Meggelaine, anxious to be part of the conversation said, ‘But then we would be tripping over them wouldn’t we? I remember when the council tried to re-introduce red hares. It got out of hand.’

‘Exactly,’ Roztov was fidgeting with excitement. ‘The trees around here, around us right now, are in good condition. No signs of deforestation. No signs of unusual animal population trends.’

‘I don’t get it,’ put in Floran from across the camp fire, who had finally given up being silent and strongly desired to know what they were all talking about.

Meggelaine didn’t get it either but didn’t want to say so in front the other druids.

‘It’s like a...’ Ghene muttered as he tugged on his bottom lip.

As his sentence trailed off Roztov said, ‘This forest is managed.’

Ghene stood up and putting his hands on his hips said, ‘It’s like a nature reserve.’

‘Other druids?’ said Meggelaine hopefully, looking around as if they might appear from the trees at that very moment.

Ghene too looked around them, ‘I saw no signs of humanity. And there would be signs. Perhaps another druid may have been shipwrecked here, but why would he stay? Besides it would take a lone druid decades to manage a forest like this. If this be the work of man or elf, it is the work of generations.’

‘Yes, it’s like a king’s park or hunting range... Oh futtocks!’

‘What?’

‘I know where we are.’

‘Where are we?’

Roztov paused, always one for a dramatic delivery, then said, ’Tanud, Lair of Serpents, Island of Dragons!’

‘No!’ gasped Ghene, ‘How can you know?’

‘The attack, the fog. No predators, just lots of big tasty animals. This forest is a dragon hunting reservation.’

‘How do you know that?’ whispered Meg, looking around again, as if this time it was dragons were in the trees listening.

‘This far north and west. Like the maps say “Here be dragons”.’

‘But that’s just the maps! The map makers put that on to fill in empty spaces.’

Roztov rubbed his tired eyes, ‘You’ve said that before. I heard stories about it though, the last time we sailed west of Grenos. It’s talked about like a legend, the sailors all say it was told to them by someone who knew someone, but still.’

‘Where are the dragons then?’

‘That was what attacked us.’

‘Dragons’, gasped Meggelaine. ‘Surely we would have known if we’d been attacked by dragons?’

‘Well, Broddor said he saw a serpent.’

Over at his side of the fire Broddor nodded and said, ‘That I did.’

Arrin, the youngest of the sailors to survive was now awake and quietly said from where he sat up against a tree, ‘I saw something too. From the top sail I saw something big and black moving about in the fog before the flames arrived.’

‘It makes sense,’ said Roztov. ‘I just wish I’d been on deck when it happened. When I came up the sails were already ablaze. I couldn’t see anything much for smoke. Well, except for a crazy dwarf hurling himself into the sea waving his sword over his head.’

Broddor merely grunted.

‘Did you see anything Salveri?’ asked Ghene.

‘Nothing, my lord. Just the flames when they struck. I saw burning men falling from the masts. The captain had ordered us to reef the sails so we were all up there. I fell in the water, with my arse on fire. I saw Dreggen though, on the deck, calling it down on us. I thought it was him, casting a spell.’

Roztov turned and looked at Dreggen where he lay in the roots of a tree, seemingly asleep.

‘I saw that too, when I got on deck. Let him sleep, we’ll deal with that in the morning.’

‘Dragons though, my lord?’ said Arrin in hushed tones. ‘What do we do?’

‘First we rest,’ said the druid. ‘It is dark now. We’ll keep the fire low and set a watch. If the dragon returns then we’ll just have to deal with it as best we can.’

Roztov lay back, and finally allowed himself the pleasure of loosening his top layer of clothes so that his undergarments could dry by the warmth of the fire.