History's Shadow I: Legends Born (Tahir Edition) #Wattys2014

Chapter Five - Demetrius vs. the Dragon (1/2)

“They’re back, they’re back!” a little boy shouted. Mothers, elders, children, wives and all those left behind burst from their homes and abandoned their chore. They flocked toward the returning heroes.

The noise stilled Ezria’s hands above the brewing pot of stew; she too, hurried to the door. She could barely see the returning men engulfed by the swarm of people. She saw the people jumping for joy and reaching for their returned men. What she did not see was the smile of her husband or the men waving their swords in victory. She wrung her hands, her eyes wandered over to her son. Seemingly, he was the only child not running and shouting for his father.

“Demetrius, aren’t you going to look for your father?” She asked.

“He’s not coming.” Demetrius slammed his farming tool to the ground and stormed back into the hut.

“I pray you are wrong.” she muttered to herself.

“Ezria,” Jerith shouted over the chatter as he approached her. “Please, will you help these two? They are severely injured.”

“Of course, Jerith, bring them in.” She helped him guide Josef into their home and lay him on the floor.

“Demetrius, get some clean water and blankets. Demetrius?”

“Yes, Mother. I’m going.”

“Ezria,” Jerith searched for the words. “Nehemiah saved Josef’s life. He rescued Bakuk from the dragon’s claws, and he fought bravely, not showing fear for even an instant…”

Ezria couldn’t keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks, nor did she bother trying to hide them. She continued examining Josef as she cried.

“He delivered powerful, strategic attacks upon the dragon. We thought for sure he killed him, but Netiro was too strong. I am so sorry. All of Nephram will mourn his passing. He wanted me to tell you he loved you and Demetrius, and that he did his best. He wanted you to know he was proud of you both, and for me to give this to Demetrius.”

Demetrius returned with the water and blankets, and placed them on the floor next to his mother. Jerith stood and unsheathed the sword.

“You take care of the farm and take care of your mother now. Your father was very proud of you.” He handed Demetrius the sword.

He nodded as he looked the sword over in his hand for a moment. He dropped it back into its sheath, turned and walked back into his room.

“I’m so sorry Ezria. If you need me I won’t be far.”

“Here, let me take a look at your arm.” She wiped her eyes and grabbed a clean cloth.

“It will heal.” Jerith said. Blood seeped over her hands as Ezria removed the torn strips of clothing he used as a bandage.

“You’re fortunate you didn’t bleed to death, Jerith. Here, sit down and keep pressure on it,” she handed him the cloth and placed his good hand over the wound. “I’ve got to find a way stop that bleeding. Curse that dragon!” she cleaned her hands and quickly went to her herbs. “If I can stop the bleeding and keep the infection out of it, you’ll probably be fine. I could even do something about the pain. But I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to use that arm again, Jerith.”

She worked quickly, despite the tears and shaking hands, to create a paste for Jerith and Josef. She suddenly stopped and dropped her mortar.

“Did Bakuk make it?”

Jerith slowly shook his head.

“Oh, poor Sara,” she shook her head and buried her face in her hands. “And all those children. What will she do?”

“Bakuk called us all Brother and Sister. We won’t let our little nieces and nephews go hungry, Ezria,” he reassured her, still clutching his arm.

“You’re right, Jerith. We’ll take care of each other,” she nodded and gathered her composure. “We always do.”

While she tended to Josef and the others, Demetrius stayed in his room.

As the day went on, more men were brought into Ezria’s home. Sara worked by her side to make sure the many injuries were taken care of. More women came to make medicine under Ezria’s direction. They cleaned utensils and cloths or prepared food; anything they could do to help their husbands, brothers and sons. The children brought fresh water and picked herbs for the medicine. The able bodied men worked to bury the deceased. The elders and holy men offered prayers and comfort to heart-broken families. Nephram was long accustomed to hard times and, as Jerith promised, they took care of one another.

As the sun ducked behind the western mountains, a gargled roar echoed over the village.

“You think you have won?” the dragon’s voice was little more than a hiss as he flew over the village. “You send your strongest to defeat me in my sleep like cowards, yet here I am! I am weakened true, but know this; you shall pay for your arrogance and foolishness.”

For the first time since the news of his father’s death, Demetrius went outside to hear the dragon’s rants.

“It is far from over humans. But remember, you brought this on yourselves.” Netiro swooped to fill his jaws with a horse from the field. The horse died before it realized it was attacked, and was swallowed in two massive chomps.

Jerith glared at Netiro as the dragon turned, licking his lips, to fly away.

“We were so close.”

“Mother, I promise you I will return.” Demetrius looked up into her eyes and squeezed her arm. She cocked her head, puzzled. Before she could ask what he meant, he released her and grabbed his fathers’ sword. He jumped onto a mule and took off after Netiro before she could stop him.

“Demetrius! No!” Ezria ran after her son, but she was no match for the mule.

Demetrius ignored his mother’s pleas. He kicked the mule harder, urging it to run faster. When he realized he’d never catch up to Netiro, he decided to bring the dragon to him.

“Fall, fall, fall, fall.” Demetrius chanted. He gripped the mule with one hand and out-stretched the other.

Jerith ran after Demetrius as well. He caught up with Ezria, grabbed her and held her tightly.

“No! Let me go!” she screamed and struggled against his grasp.

“You cannot go after him Ezria.” Jerith held her tightly.

Netiro’s body suddenly felt as though made of stone; his wings rigid, unable to move. He plummeted from the sky like a falling star. Shock waves rumbled across the land, uprooting plants, sending dust swirling in the air, and causing the galloping mule to tumble to the ground.

Villagers stumbled out of hiding to see what had caused the thunderous vibrations. Demetrius ran toward the fallen dragon, sword in hand. The villagers picked up any tools and weapons they could find and ran to where another battle was about to take place.