LeRoy Clary
Dragon!
Book Two: “Revenge”
CHAPTER ONE
The illusion of a peaceful world was shattered violently one afternoon in early spring for Gareth, all of the Sisterhood, and the half of the Brotherhood; all with ‘sensitive’ powers to receive thoughts from a distance. They stopped whatever they were doing and slumped to the ground in unison, writhing in pain before falling unconscious.
The phenomena only touched them, those who could communicate with their thoughts, ideas, and images without words. Most recovered by dawn and tried explaining what had occurred. All failed.
Most chose words to explain which conveyed the effect of a black cloth draped over their heads that worked its way down their body until nothing else existed. Their minds were then filled with dank, dark, flashes of vivid colors and deep feelings of intense pain.
Those who were affected agreed on one thing in particular—Someone had ripped the peace and tranquility from their world and was intent on doing more. Nearly all put aside petty differences and swore to band together to find and eliminate the source of the disruption. Only Gareth, the outsider who possessed sensitive powers beyond others retained his distance and anonymity.
Sara helped Gareth climb out of bed and supported him. With her help, he limped onto the front porch of the island cabin, slipped into his favorite wicker chair, and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders to ward off the morning chill.
She said, “Are you all right? Can you talk to me about what happened?”
Before speaking, he chose his words. “There were things inside my mind. Terrible things. Ideas and pictures. They brought so much pain I blanked out.”
“You fell down in the garden like someone smashed your head with an ax handle. During the night, you screamed out as if you were being tortured in the King’s own dungeons. You thrashed around and once went into a trance so deep we couldn’t rouse you.”
Gareth hung his head until his chin rested on his chest. His eyes closed in a futile effort to blot out the details but continued. “It was horrible; the things I saw in my mind.” He paused again, as the tears fell. “My father’s dead.”
Sara pulled back, then placed a hand on his forearm drawing his attention. “Oh no. How?”
“He was tortured. They ripped his mind out of him and stripped it away like peeling away layers, or like picking the petals off a flower one at a time and throwing them to the side.”
“How can that be? I feel so sorry for him. And you.”
Gareth raised his eyes and looked at her through the streaming tears. “He fought back, you know. He refused to give anything to them, but they took it, pulling it out of him. They grabbed what was in his mind and left him lying on the ground like a discarded container of honey.”
“You know this how?” she asked, crying along with him. “You watched part of it happen?”
“He was strong to the end. Before they invaded his mind, he isolated a small portion and used all his efforts and energy to defend it, like making a fist in his head. He held on to it. He touched my mind with that portion to warn me even as they attacked.”
“That’s the kind of wonderful man he was,” Sara sobbed. “Thinking of you and trying to help even while they were killing him.”
“They finally broke him. One of them found a way inside his mind and came to me along the thread we used to talk.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
Gareth knew mere words never communicated the abilities of sensitives well or completely. “The thread, or link that he used to touch my mind. Someone else took it over.”
“This other person used it to talk with you?”
“Threatened, is more accurate. He stole the information in my father’s head and then came to me and said that I am next.”
Sara was on her feet, her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide. “He’s coming here?”
“Along with others.”
“What are we going to do?”
“My father warned us in time. We have to flee, but he also managed to give me a kernel of thought that contained additional information they do not know about. While they were stripping his mind, he gathered information about them from their minds. They put up no defenses as they attacked and he did the unthinkable. He did to them what they were doing to him—but without their knowledge.”
“He shared that with you?”
“Yes. I have to go to him.”
“Of course. I understand, but he’ll be long buried before you arrive. What of your father’s dragon, Cinder? And us?”
“I don’t know all of it, yet. Cinder can survive on his own. There are plenty of sheep and deer to feed on. You and everyone else will travel by ship to Vespa as we planned. Remember when we first came here, I purchased a farm there in case we ever needed to flee.”
“Vespa. In the lowlands. Way up north and you’re going to the mainland.”
Taking her hand in his, he said, “You have to be safe with the family. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
“Will we ever return here?”
“I hope so, but they’ll come here soon, and everyone needs to be gone. We have to tell the family about Vespa. Today.”
Sara picked up a straw broom and swept the clean porch steps again, but finally paused and turned. “Telling them will be so hard.”
“I know. But the alternative is to remain and die. At least, that’s what’s most likely to happen. We’ll talk to them. Explain.”
“You’ll leave with the next supply ship I assume?”
“I will. Another will come to carry the family to safety.”
Sara sighed and remained quiet. He stole a glance at her, knowing her fear exceeded his because she didn’t really understand, and he didn’t know how to explain. She appeared calm and beautiful, as always. Her age-lined face and dark hair that now contained streaks of gray gave her an exotic appearance. She looked perhaps fifty but was more attractive than most women at thirty.
In contrast, his body hadn’t aged since the dragon egg hatched and they bonded in their unique manner so many years ago. As the man that he called his ‘father,' also didn’t age. He also looked twenty. So did his father. And his before that.
She lifted her chin and said, “Send Blackie on ahead. Tell him to fly as fast as he can.”
Gareth turned and faced her. “I already have. Early this morning when I first woke.”
Sara nodded, compassion clear in her voice when she spoke with a brave smile. She stroked his head, in an obvious attempt to soothe him. She said, “Years ago, you know you promised to change Blackie’s name. We both agreed it’s not a dignified name for such an important dragon.”
The faint smile on Gareth’s lips equaled hers. “My father thinks it’s funny that such a great black dragon has such a simple name.”
“I’ll never understand how you speak to your dragon with your mind, let alone how the Brotherhood and Sisterhood mind-talk with each other.”
“Does an artist explain how he paints? Or how a singer sings a song? They just do it.”
“Never mind talking about it again. But if he’s dead, you will be the one who watches over and protects others. Gareth will no longer just be your name. It will be your title. You will be The Gareth. That is a great responsibility. Are you prepared to assume your adopted father’s duties?”
His eyes teared up again, looking out over the water but not seeing anything. At last, he said, “I’ve been training with him for years. I’m prepared, but not ready, if that makes sense.”