No matter what Faelon said, it was clear he was hurting badly. While Aytin had gotten off with nothing more than scratches and bruises, the dragon was favoring his right foreleg. Blue-tinged fluid seeped around blackened scales all around the foot. Thankfully, it wasn't a fatal wound, and draconic healing meant that any wound that failed to kill him would quickly heal.
But in light of his wounds and because neither of them wanted to spend the time and effort to load it all onto the dragon's back, they were leaving the rest of the tirox meat behind.
"We can get it on our way back," Aytin said, eyeing the pile as they made their way up the canyon. "Or maybe trade for some fresh meat."
"A deer would be nice. One roasted rather than burned."
Aytin flicked his ears in exasperation at the teasing tone in his friend's words. "I did my best with that tirox. And I had to eat it, too."
"I know," Faelon acknowledged, serious once more. "It was... a difficult situation. For us both."
Neither spoke for a few moments as they relived the whiplash of emotions. The relief, and the chagrin that came after when they realized their windfall turned out not to be all that they had hoped.
Eventually, Aytin spoke up. "I'm going to try and talk to them. Learn the language," he said, motioning towards the wildling huntresses. "Whatever they really want, they haven't tried to kill us and they haven't flown away."
"A worthwhile plan. I shall listen as you do."
"You don't want to help?" It wasn't exactly surprising. Faelon had always been less than approachable, for reasons Aytin was only now beginning to understand. But he thought the dragon would at least want to be able to speak to the newcomers.
"What do you believe would happen if I attempted to speak to them now?"
Aytin glanced towards the wildlings. They were keeping pace with the two of them, but still maintaining a healthy separation from Faelon. Either they didn't have much experience with dragons or else those experiences hadn't been particularly pleasant ones.
"Good point. I'll try and work on that with them. Hopefully they will realize that you're not actually going to eat them." He added that last with a smile, but it faded when the dragon didn't immediately agree.
"Perhaps..." Faelon said, slowly. "Perhaps it would be wise not to do so."
"What? Why?"
"Think about it."
Aytin did. And he recalled their earlier conversation on intentions.
"Okay, that's a good point. I'll focus on getting us a good meal, you be big and intimidating. But at some point, they are going to realize that you're not some monster."
"And by that time, we will know more about them."
"You really are paranoid, aren't you?" When Faelon didn't comment, Aytin shrugged. "Fine, I don't think it will hurt anything to do it your way. In the meantime, any other words of wisdom before I get started?"
The dragon considered for a moment. "No, I trust you with this."
Aytin was surprised by the sincerity in his partner's words. "Thanks. And I'll try to get a deer or two out of them for you."
"Do that, and I will be eternally grateful."
So the young dragonette dropped back to join the trailing wildlings and let Faelon lead. Not that it would have been possible to get lost hiking up the canyon.
As they walked, there were signs of the dragon's last passage in this direction. Mostly in the form of snapped trees and gouges in the rocky ground. A long, intermittent line marked where his broken wing had dragged. It didn't take a tracker to follow a trail this obvious, and only luck and the tall, sheltering walls had kept the brigands' search from finding him.
Aytin spent the rest of the trek pointing at various things and getting the words for them. Rina actually seemed enthusiastic about the whole process, and Ness joined in shortly.
The youngest of the three wildlings hadn't said much before. She was obviously new to her role, Aytin's age or maybe even a little younger. But once she felt comfortable, she practically emptied her belt pouches showing off her possessions and rattling off names.
When those were finished, she started improvising, gesturing wildly in more and more complex pantomimes. Aytin found himself smiling and laughing at Ness's antics more than he had at any time since the brigand ambush. It felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
Together, they managed to hash out the words for a number of things. Tree, rock, sky, bird, sun, knife, bow, things of that nature. Actions like walking, running, throwing, and fighting were easy enough to figure out. Concepts like hunting or cooking took some time to get across because they couldn't immediately demonstrate them, but between Ness's enthusiasm and Aytin's determination, they managed.
Oddly, their word for dragonette had taken some work to get across. Ness and Rina argued back and forth for a while as Aytin repeatedly pointed between them.
Throughout the process, he managed to pick up a handful of other useful words. Things like pronouns and a handful of descriptive words. Good and bad were easy enough. Hot and cold came from comparing a sun baked rock and a shaded one. Big and small were especially useful. He could chain them with other words for emphasis.
Aytin was surprised that he could remember the flood of words. Most of them, at least. He wasn't perfect and, judging by Ness's giggles, his accent was terrible. But by and large, he managed to make a good bit of progress.
It helped that many of the words sounded similar. Especially simple things. 'I wonder if we shared the same language a long time ago.'
Throughout the hike, Attalee remained aloof. She stayed further back, only commenting when Rina eventually spoke to her directly.
Aytin couldn't catch what was said. He might know a few words and be able to guess the meanings of others, but he probably sounded like a recent hatchling to them.
Still, her tone seemed distracted. Or maybe annoyed. It was hard to tell.
The other two were perfectly happy to keep up the exchange.
Without thinking, Aytin pulled the short sword from its sheath and held it up questioningly.
There was instant silence as the wildlings' eyes went wide.
'Oh, shit.' He had an instant to realize his mistake before they crowded around him. Even Attalee overcame her hesitance to get a closer look at the steel blade.
The sword wasn't anything particularly special. About forearm length with a basic crossguard and leather wrapped handle. It was the sort of thing that a junior guard might carry as a backup for a bow or polearm. But the wildlings were treating it like it was made of enchanted mithril.
Rina reached out and tapped the steel with one taloned finger. It made a dull tink. She whispered something almost reverently. It might have been the word for steel or metal. Aytin had no way to be sure.
There was the hiss of metal leaving a sheath and he twisted to see Attalee had drawn a knife. Aytin flinched away, but the other dragonette raised one hand in a placating gesture. Slowly, she held her own blade against his.
On closer examination, the wildling's knife looked less like a weapon and more like a piece of cutlery. 'Maybe an old kitchen knife?' Aytin wondered where the wildlings had gotten it. Some wind-blown trader? Or looted from the ruins of the keep? It was definitely old enough to be the latter, pitted and stained with age and sharpened so many times that its profile was noticeably stubby.
But when she tapped it against Aytin's sword, both blades rang with clear metallic notes.
That set off a round of muttering, mostly between Rina and Attalee. One that included Aytin's name and a lot of gestures his way. This went on for some time, with mutters turning to hisses and even a barked exclamation from Ness.
Eventually, Aytin had enough.
"Hey!"
His shout had them all looking his way. When she saw the annoyed expression on his face, Rina at least had the decency to look apologetic. She said something, probably an apology, to which Aytin replied with a nod.
"I good?" he asked, making the most of his limited vocabulary.
"You good." She said it with a firm nod and a smile. Then she pointed to the sword now sheathed at his hip. "Knife big... steel?"
He didn't catch the whole sentence, but the last word was the same as the one she had used before, so he pegged it as definitely referring to the metal.
"Yes, the sword is made of steel." In wildling, he said, "Knife big steel." After a moment's consideration, he added, "No knife, sword." That last was in his language, since he doubted the wildlings had a word for it.
"Sword," Rina said, as if tasting the word. "Sword good. You..." she added something he couldn't understand.
At Aytin's confused look, she drew her own knife. It was a short blade, made of knapped flint. Treating it like a much longer weapon, the huntress made stabbing and cutting motions. Then she bared her teeth and held her fingers up to her forehead in what was clearly an imitation of a delerion's antennae before closing her eyes and lolling her tongue out.
The pantomime drew a snort of laughter. Aytin had to grin as he nodded, catching the gist of her question. "Yes, I stabbed delerion." That was what he thought he was saying, at least.
'I won't mention I used my knife, not the sword. No need to show them exactly how much metal I have just yet.'
She asked something else. This time, the question seemed to involve both him and his weapons. She indicated the bow, spear, and sword in turn. But he could only shake his head in confusion.
When she repeated herself to no avail, Rina scrunched her snout in frustration. Slowly, like speaking to a hatchling, she pointed at Aytin and started going through words, something they had found occasionally bore fruit. He still couldn't make sense of it until...
"Stop!" That last word had sounded almost like... "Warrior?" To emphasize, he held his spear up like he was defending against some unseen attacker.
"Yes! You warrior?"
Something about the sheer absurdity of the question started Aytin chuckling. And he found that he couldn't stop. Soon he was laughing almost hysterically at the very idea of himself as a trained fighter.
Rina was frowning deeply when he finally managed to get himself under control. "No," he nearly gasped. "I no warrior. You warrior more more I."
"No, I huntress." That was what she had to be saying, at least.
To confirm, Aytin pointed to Attalee and Ness. "Huntress?"
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"Yes. We huntresses. You?" The last was added questioningly.
'That's a good question. What am I, exactly?'
That had been the question when he was sent off to the capital. He wasn't a warrior. He wasn't a leader or administrator. Not a miner nor a farmer nor a smith. Certainly not a huntress, and that brought another smile to the corners of his lips. The idea of a male huntress was absurd.
Rina was still waiting, and she was starting to look impatient. All he really had for an answer was a shrug. "I, Faelon, we..." He trailed off and shrugged once more. He wanted to tell her that they were friends. That he was going where the dragon went. But those words were beyond him.
Somehow. Rina seemed to understand. She nodded deeply, and in almost a whisper said, "You Faelon companion."
'Or she could be saying I'm his dinner.' But the word sounded close enough to companion, and from the way she had said the word, that seemed most likely. In fact from her tone, Aytin had the feeling it meant quite a bit more.
He was about to press further, when Faelon interrupted.
"We are here."
Aytin had been so engrossed in the conversation that he hadn't noticed as the canyon narrowed and the cliff walls shortened. At this point, Faelon could probably peak his head over the top without even stretching.
Just past the dragon, the canyon ended. Water trickled out of a small pool, but the smooth walls and deep basin warned that it could become a raging torrent in the right season.
There was a hollow behind the dormant waterfall. Something had clearly expanded it in recent days. There were deep gouges in the rock and sections appeared discolored, as if they hadn't been exposed to the same weathering as the rest of the cliff face.
All told, it was just large enough for an adult red dragon to squeeze into. And in the very back, piled where they were concealed by deep shadows, were the surviving contents of Faelon's cargo.
"Thank the gods," Aytin muttered. A new burst of energy filled him as he pushed himself towards the cache. "I was beginning to think that we would never get here."
"I will admit that the feeling is mutual."
Faelon remained where he was as Aytin scrambled up the short rocky lip. His positioning presented a bit of a problem for the wildlings.
They were still unwilling to approach the dragon. And the canyon was narrow enough that they would need to pass within a few dragonette wingspans of him in order to follow Aytin. There was no reason that they couldn't take to the skies, but something seemed to stop them from doing even that. So they waited and watched from a distance as the young dragonette began to dig into the treasure trove.
His heart fell when he saw the condition of the supplies. Underneath a layer of wind-blown leaves, many of the wooden crates and casks showed signs of damage. Much of it was certainly from the crash, but it was clear that Faelon hadn't been particularly careful as he had haphazardly shoved everything into place.
'I can't really blame him for that. Injured, and with no hands? It's a miracle he was able to do this much.'
Even more worrying was the smell. Aytin wrinkled his nose at the sour, almost rotten scent that pervaded the alcove.
But digging into the crates, he found that most of the damage was superficial. Cargo was packed to handle jostling and the occasional rough landing. Tightly packed straw had cushioned most of the impacts.
The furs and tanned hides would be useful. Same with the smith's tools. But they weren't what he was looking for. He dug out several sacks of seed that had gotten wet and were beginning to mildew. And a padded box filled with fertilized eggs gone bad.
But below that was something that nearly had the dragonette crying tears of joy.
An entire barrel of salt, weighing nearly as much as he did! With its seals still intact!
And there were more treasures to be found.
Faelon had managed to miss at least one large container of potted meat. And there were ingots of various metals that would be worth a fair pile of gold to a settlement with a good smith.
The reason for the weird smell became apparent as a dark, thin liquid spilled from between the cracked staves in a small cask. Most of the ale it once held had leaked out, soaking into the ground and surrounding packages.
That was disappointing, and Aytin looked longingly at the dribble of stale beer. 'After all of this, a drink would have been nice.'
But there was so much more that was intact. Like the small bundle of bow staves and braided strings. Or the wood saw and carpentry tools to go with it.
Something familiar caught the young dragonette's eye. A battered trunk, something that looked like it would have been more at home in a keep than on dragonback. One with the symbol of the Luffin family carved into the top.
"Oh, gods." Almost reverently, Aytin flipped the latches and opened the lid.
A little moisture had managed to seep in over the weeks. The contents had a musty smell, but otherwise everything was there.
Not that there was much, nor anything particularly fragile. A few extra sets of underclothes, his spare coat. Soap and brushes and polish for his horns and talons. He smiled slightly at the set of formal clothing: A snow white vest with blue trimming, shiny brass buttons, and matching pants.
His face fell as he pulled out the wax-sealed linen envelope at the bottom. It bulged with missives for his uncle Cork. Aytin knew what most of them said. His mother had spent several evenings going over them with him before he left. The details of their mine's declining production, dwindling copper stockpiles, and the various alternatives they were exploring. Everything was laid out in those pages.
It had been the most time he had spent with his mother in... honestly, he couldn't remember.
Aytin stuffed the envelope back into the trunk, next to the small pouch of coins. There was enough money there to live comfortably in the capital for months. Now they weren't any more useful than a handful of shiny rocks.
Other personal trunks and bags laid scattered throughout the pile. All possessions of Faelon's former crew. They no doubt held all sorts of useful gear. He would have to search them at some point. But Aytin couldn't bring himself to do that.
Not yet.
It wasn't like he was short on things to go through. There was frankly too much to handle all at once, especially with the sun beginning to dip towards the horizon. He had to prioritize.
"Do you know where the medicines are?" Aytin called down to Faelon.
"One of the smaller boxes. I believe it had a white stripe painted across its side."
Aytin could vaguely recall which one the dragon was talking about from his time working as a hand on the crew. With that in mind, he rooted through the pile to find the item in question. Prying open the lid revealed a number of clay jars packed tightly in straw.
Miracle of miracles, they were not only intact, but labeled as well. Not just with their contents, but the afflictions they were meant to treat. The first one appeared to be for reducing pain, while the second claimed to be for gut cramps. He set both of those aside before pulling out a third. The label proclaimed it a "wound salve" which was good enough for him.
The wax seal broke, and a harsh smell wafted up from the dark paste inside the ceramic jar. It was a bit like a strong drink that had turned sour, mixed with something more herbal.
His wing tingled as he spread the paste across the inflamed gash. No more than that, though. Certainly nothing like the burning pain of his amateur concoction. A slight chill seemed to follow, and with it came a dulling of the pain that had been slowly building over the last few days.
Just to be safe, he started applying the same medicine to his other wing. The wound there was healing nicely, but it wouldn't hurt to help it along.
Rocks clattered nearby. It was Rina, picking her way up the short rise to the cache. Apparently, her curiosity had overcome her reluctance to approach Faelon.
She indicated the pile of supplies and asked something in a questioning tone.
"I don't think it's worth hiding this, do you Faelon?" Aytin directed the question to the dragon, who bobbed his head back and forth in indifference.
"They will find out soon enough."
Casting about, Aytin quickly found what he was looking for. The wildling obviously recognized the bow stave, and accepted the string he passed her. But when she tried to string it, her eyes went wide.
"That's probably a much heavier pull that you're used to," Aytin told her, although he knew she wouldn't understand a word he said. Her bow was nearby, where she had set it down. "More good," he added, making it clear he meant that bow.
"More good," Rina echoed. "More..." He thought the word that followed was heavy, although she might have said strong.
Aytin took the bow back, and showed her how to loop the string around a notch at the base. Then, holding it close, he bent the top limb backwards. Or tried to, anyway. Even with leverage, it was too much for him.
Demonstrating the technique was enough, though. When Rina attempted the same, she was easily able to bend the limb back until the string slipped into place.
The huntress stared at the assembled bow almost reverently. An experimental tug had her wide eyed, ears pricked in astonishment.
"Try it."
They didn't need to speak the same language for her to get the point. There were a number of fletched shafts stored nearby. Aytin handed her one of those. As a huntress, she was obviously familiar with a bow, even if this one was much more powerful than what she was used to.
A tree leaned precariously over one edge of the canyon, protruding well out over the dry streambed below. From the displaced dirt around its base, it looked like the lean was a recent development, perhaps caused by a certain dragon's passage. About as thick around as a dragonette's chest and fifty paces away, it made an excellent target.
The wildling sighted on. When she drew, she hesitated halfway, no doubt worried at the force she was having to use. But Aytin motioned for her to keep going. Rina reset, took a deep breath, and pulled the bow to its full extension before loosing. The arrow zipped through the intervening distance to shatter into splinters on impact with the trunk.
Aytin winced as the shaft disintegrated. He had gone for a long time with only a bare handful of arrows. It would take some time to adjust to having a dozens and the materials to make more. Rina, on the other hand, was staring at the bow in her hands with something like awe.
When she didn't move for several seconds, Aytin gave her a poke. "Good?"
Her response sounded quite a bit stronger than simply "Good". "Amazing" was probably more like it.
Rina tried to hand the bow back to him, but Aytin shook his head and pushed it back at her. "You bow. Thank you. Hunting delerion."
The look on her face was priceless. Like he had just gifted her a set of enchanted armor instead of a simple bow.
"You are quick to give away my cargo."
Aytin's eyes went wide with embarrassment as he spun to face the dragon. "Oh, damn, I'm sorry Faelon! I wasn't thinking! I just-"
"It is fine," he replied, with a dismissive shake of his head. "A little goodwill is worth the price of a few trinkets that I have little use for, anyway. Just be sure to get a good value for anything that you trade."
"I, uh, I will," Aytin promised, although he didn't have the faintest clue how to do that. 'What do they have to trade? Ten deer for a bow? Twenty?' By Rina's reaction, even that number might be low.
The other two huntresses approached. Apparently the gift had been enough to convince them that they were welcome.
Rina didn't waste any time showing off her new toy.
Soon, Ness was making appreciative noises as she plucked the bowstring while Attalee looked on and tried to remain impassive. From the intensity of her stare and how her hand twitched as they passed the bow back and forth, she clearly wanted to join in.
'If this is how they react to a bow and my little sword, I can't imagine what they will do when they find out what else is in there.'
Besides the bows, there were arrowheads, both iron hunting tips and steel bodkin points for punching through armor. More swords and knives and spear points. Ax heads and hammers and awls and all manner of tools. Not to mention most of the guards' armor and equipment had to be here, somewhere.
'They would kill for it,' Aytin realized with an involuntary gulp. Then a thought occurred to him. 'They would kill for it...'
While the trio were distracted, he made his way over to where Faelon had settled down. Not that the dragon was resting. He was very clearly keeping an attentive watch on the wildlings.
"We should ask them to gather wood for a fire," Faelon said as Aytin approached. "Perhaps hunt something for breakfast." He extended his neck to peak at the sun's position above the canyon rim. Dusk couldn't be more than a couple of hours away.
"I'll try to ask them. I think I have enough of their language. But..."
He hesitated, and Faelon gave him a questioning look. "Is there something else?"
"Yeah... Faelon, you're still set on fighting- on killing Xantha when she returns?"
"That has not changed. You will be safe, and finding the wildlings may be quite the boon. That is assuming they do not rob you blind once I am gone."
The way he said that made it clear that it wasn't a joke.
"I'm sure we could come to some sort of arrangement, but... Faelon, you know that these three can't be all of them, right?"
"Yes. I expect an entire tribe. A hundred, easily, and possibly more. Why?"
"Because I'm not going to leave you, Faelon."
The dragon snorted in exasperation. "There is no need for you to-"
"I'm not!" Aytin nearly shouted and Faelon jerked back from the intensity of the words. "You want her dead because she's a traitor. Well, that bitch betrayed me, too! And don't forget what else she did!" He flared his wings, showing the prominent gashes through the membranes.
"And gods damn it, after all we've been through, I'm not going to let you go off to die alone like that!"
Tears burned at the corners of Aytin's eyes as he fought not to break down into sobs. He forced himself to grit his teeth and take deep breaths.
When he finally got himself under control, the young dragonette looked up into Faelon's enormous eyes. Eyes that were full of concern.
"But there's one more thing," Aytin said, now with a tight smile and a hint of hope in his voice.
"What is that?" Faelon asked, deep voice lowered to nearly nothing.
"I don't think we have to fight alone."