Chapter Two: Dragon Attack

Tranith Argan, Book 1

Felanar and his father Chafrar are fishing on Lake Brindle when they realize a dragon has swooped down upon the fishermen.

Chafrar cried out in alarm and Felanar studied the creature intently. Other fishermen had seen the creature and a cry of alarm went up. Probably not one of these men had ever seen a dragon before, but all knew the stories told down at the inn and had read the legends. Bane of the skies, dragons had no match for power and terror. Elderly widows in the village spoke of the horror of claiming a body that had been ripped and ruined by a dragon. Fishermen who had strayed too far into the sea had occasionally returned wild-eyed with fear from an encounter.

Felanar watched in amazement at this legend come to life. It (he? she?) was larger than he had imagined. The old books had pictured them in relation to men and had made them seem perhaps twice the size. This one was much larger. It was still at some distance but it was clearly forty or fifty feet across its wingspan. The sound of its wings came to them across the water, mingled with the yells of the fishermen. The boats nearer the dragon had been turned around and the men were sailing rapidly back toward shore aided by frantic rowing. Chafrar and Felanar, in a boat closer to shore already, still watched in amazement. The dragon was circling over one of the far boats, lazily beating its wings and snorting little puffs of smoke from its nostrils. The rowers on that boat were almost paralyzed by fear.

“Grab the oars, son!” Chafrar wrenched his eyes away from the beast. “Quick, for shore, hurry!” He also grabbed an oar and began paddling wildly. Felanar grabbed an oar, but even as he paddled he kept watching the dragon. He noticed with horror that it had stopped its circling pattern and seemed to hang in mid-air right above one boat. Time seemed to stand still for Felanar, with the dragon hovering, the men on that boat frozen in fear, and Chafrar yelling something at him that he dimly heard.

Then the dragon lifted its scaly head and let out a roar and with it a burst of flame and smoke. It dove, swooping down upon the stationary boat, with three men on board. One immediately dove over the side but the other two seemed immobilized. They, and Felanar, watched in horror as the dragon veered off away from the boat and plunged into the water, smoke hissing up along with a tremendous surging wave. The boat rocked wildly in response and was just settling back down when the dragon burst back up through the surface and flew into the air, with the poor fisherman in its mouth. He did not suffer long for with a great gulp the beast swallowed him down and then let out another massive roar.

“What are you staring at, boy! Row, I tell you!” Chafrar’s words finally registered on Felanar’s mind, distracting him from the scene of horror he had just witnessed. He turned to face his father. Felanar stared into Chafrar’s eyes, seeing the fear in his father’s face, the same fear he felt in the pit of his stomach.

Yet he found he could not act on that fear. Something deep within was calling to him, pulling up blind courage where there had been fear before. Anger, too, welled up inside him. What happened to that poor fisherman was wrong, and something had to be done to help the others.

“No father, we must help!” Felanar’s face was a mixture of determination and fear. Sweat dripped down his forehead as his fists clenched. “We must do something, distract the dragon, or hurt it.”

Chafrar responded with amazement and fear. “Distract that beast? For what? To be killed yourself? You can’t hurt it. Row, I tell you!”

Every impulse in Felanar’s body told him to obey his father. His hand even went toward the oar, almost involuntarily. He could see the shoreline and supposed safety. It would be so easy to flee and let the dragon torment and kill those other men. So easy, just pick up the oar and begin rowing to safety. So easy to go on with his quiet life as if nothing had happened. After all, it wasn’t his family that was being disrupted and destroyed. It wasn’t his life that was being shred to ruins. All of this surged through Felanar’s mind in a single instant.

It was his mind that turned the corner. It was his mind that overruled the fear and rejected his instincts. It was his mind that thought of Alessa and the determination she showed against any who dared to harm animals. Were not these poor helpless fishermen worth as much care? Did not their families deserve an effort to help? Felanar could picture Alessa’s eyes turning deadly serious as the inner light within them blazed. In that moment his mind was set.

“I cannot, father. We will help, and we must try to do something. Jump overboard if you will not help, and I will help alone. But I will help!”

He said this with such a commanding voice, with such an unyielding look, that Chafrar merely stared in amazement and stopped rowing toward shore. Felanar turned the sail and the boat swung around. The dragon was still circling lazily over the plundered boat, as if still enjoying the fruits of its fishing expedition. Puffs of smoke escaped its mouth and nostrils as it seemed to be making a humming sound, pleased with the events of the day. It didn’t seem to notice Felanar and Chafrar as they drew closer.

As they drew even nearer, the dragon began to increase the flapping of its wings and now Felanar was near enough to not only hear the beating of the wings but to feel the air rushing against him. He could smell the smoke, too, and another smell, a stench, coming from the beast’s mouth. It sickened him slightly to smell it. The dragon swooped down again toward the other boat roaring loudly, still not paying attention to Felanar. The men on the boat cowered in fear as the dragon soared down and then suddenly climbed, rocking the boat with a violent wind.

Felanar and Chafrar were almost alongside the other boat. The dragon could be clearly seen now. Its scaly skin was greenish and brown, with speckles of gold and red. It had an enormous belly and thick hind legs and a tail that twitched back and forth in the air. Its bat-like wings had claws on the end. There was straggly hair like a beard hanging down from its face. It began another descent.

Felanar wondered now what he was going to do. He had been determined to do something, but now that he was in position he realized how limited and absurdly inadequate his possibilities were. He had a small sword on the boat and he grabbed it, but he realized it stood little chance. At least it may sting the dragon before he was eaten, he thought.

He wondered too about talking to the dragon, using the animal speech skills the elves had taught him. Did elves talk to dragons, he wondered? How would one think like a dragon and put himself in the right frame of mind to communicate? He shuddered at the thought of picturing himself as a dragon, and trying to get into the mind of a creature that had just eaten a man.

The dragon swooped down again and this time Felanar spoke up, in a voice that chilled Chafrar.

“Come, you foul-smelling stench! Attack someone who is willing to fight you!” Although he didn’t know where the courage to say such words came from, Felanar held his sword high above his head as if to back up his new determination. As the dragon flew lower, it did turn its head and noticed this little creature with the tiny voice waving this small shiny object.

Perhaps dragons could understand speech from men and turned because of what Felanar had said. Maybe it was the fact that it saw a shiny object, and was drawn to it as dragons said to be drawn to treasure. Probably it was not used to anyone standing up to it and saw in this an opportunity to play with a particularly feisty prey. Whatever the reason, the dragon adjusted its course and swung around toward Felanar.

Chafrar dove against the base of the boat, face first, and cowered in terrible fear. Felanar would have joined him, for as the dragon swooped toward him he felt whatever courage he had depart. Yet something held his arm up, kept him standing, kept him staring at the dragon. Images and thoughts flashed through Felanar’s mind. Kara saying he would do great things one day. Would she be proud of her dead brother? An image of Alessa sprang into his mind. It was her determination that held him in place more than anything. His other arm came up and steadied the sword high over his head.

As the dragon flew in for the kill, Felanar’s eyes closed involuntarily. He could feel the wind rushing against his face and that sickly stench blast across his face. He tightened his grip on the sword and waited for the end. Then he forced his eyes open. If he was going to die, he wanted to see his killer.

It was opening his eyes that saved him. As the dragon came rushing in at this foolhardy prey who pretended to be so brave, his eyes stared at the small face below him. And when the eyes on that face opened, the dragon stared directly into them.

Felanar watched in amazement as the dragon suddenly reversed course, beating its wings with a flurry of wind. Catching its momentum, it began to hover not ten feet above Felanar, staring eye to eye with its prey. As the wings beat in place, Felanar noticed that the dragon had yellow eyes. They were intelligent eyes, full of malice it was true, but also full of curiosity. They stared at each other for what seemed minutes, Felanar wondering when he would be killed and what it would feel like to be eaten by a dragon.

Then something happened that would puzzle Felanar for a long time. The dragon’s eyes grew big. It took a sharp intake of air into its nostrils. Then it flew back up into the sky, beating its wings with a fury, and it let out a roar that shook the air. But this roar was not like the earlier ones. Those carried a feeling of triumph and pleasure. This one was different. It pierced the air with a wail of pain and hurt and fear. The fishermen covered their ears in pain from the mighty roar, but they no longer feared. It was the dragon who feared, and it was flying away as fast as it could. Soon it was a mere speck in the sky and then it was gone, leaving only the slight smell of smoke hanging in the air.

Felanar stood transfixed on the spot, sword still high over his head. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, and wasn’t quite ready to deal with the fact that he had just passed over from death to life without understanding why. Chafrar approached him on the boat and grabbed his arms and gently pulled them down. Felanar turned to his father, a look of puzzlement on his face. Chafrar’s face held only relief and pride. Relief in his life being spared, and pride in his son being the cause. He threw his arms around his son and hugged him, seeming to release all his tension. He began laughing and crying at the same time, as a flood of emotions came over him. Felanar soon joined him.

The two remaining fishermen in the other boat rowed over and thanked Felanar profusely. They still had the remnants of fear in their eyes and their hands still shook. They had not even had Felanar’s initial determination to strengthen them. They knew only complete fear and hopelessness. Men did not survive dragon attacks easily. Yet that is what had just happened, and Felanar was the cause.

Both boats made their way back to shore. A crowd of villagers had formed, having seen the dragon in the distance. As the two spared fishermen disembarked onto the dock their families rushed up them. Their wives hung onto them as if for dear life, which indeed is what had just been won for them. The families on the dock had viewed with horror the dragon attack and they had been certain their husbands and fathers were lost.

Felanar and Chafrar climbed onto the dock, watching this touching scene. Felanar looked at the eyes of the young daughter of one of the men. It was full of tears of joy and fear and she was bawling with emotions, hanging onto the side of her father. Every time he shifted position from hugging his wife the daughter would quickly struggle to hang on even tighter with her small arms. It touched Felanar’s heart.

Then their family rushed up, Sera and Kara hugging Chafrar and Felanar respectively.

“Oh my darling, are you all right?” exclaimed Sera as she hung on to her husband.

“What on earth were you doing?” asked Kara to Felanar. “It looked almost as if you were waving a sword at that monster. Were you really that brave?”

Felanar pulled back slightly to look into his sister’s eyes and said with a look of relief, “Yes, I did pull a sword, though it was not from bravery.”

“From what, then?” she asked.

“I don’t know what I was thinking. No, I take that back. I do know what I was thinking. I thought of you and Alessa, and how you would react and how determined you would be and, I don’t know, it just made me act. I had to do something!”

Kara smiled as her eyes beamed at her older brother. She hugged him harder.

“That sounds like bravery to me. Alessa will be so proud of you when I tell her.”

By now other villagers had approached Felanar and people were calling him a hero. Even Alak came up and grabbed Felanar’s hand and shook it hard and said, “You did good, little brother. It was a foolhardy thing to do, but I have to admit it worked.”

Felanar smiled at Alak in surprise and gratitude at these rare words of encouragement. He also acknowledged the growing crowd of persons congratulating him. He tried to explain that he was no hero, just a fisherman trying to help other fishermen in need. He also tried to explain that he had no idea why the dragon flew off, though he doubted it had anything to do with him. Secretly he pondered the look in the dragon’s eyes, and the fear he seemed to show as he flew off. That still made no sense to him, and he didn’t mention it to anyone.

Everyone started walking back to town to celebrate at the Slumbering Dragon, a name commented on by everyone with a hint of wit. As they moved away from the docks something caught Felanar’s eyes. Off to the side was a small crowd of villagers. He tried to stop to see who they were surrounding, but the crowd pulled him along, intent on that first ale toast to the hero. Finally the heads separated enough for him to see it was the wife of the man who had been killed. Felanar’s heart sank as he saw the poor woman utterly distraught and without hope, wailing and shuddering in grief, her friends supporting her. A small boy and smaller girl looked up at their mother with tears in their eyes and a look of wonder at the sight of their mother in such a state. Then the crowd pulled Felanar along and the sight was gone, but not from his heart.

Jalek and Namil welcomed the throngs to their inn at such an early hour. Jalek huffed and puffed along rushing to get enough casks of ales and spirits ready. Namil rushed up to Felanar and threw her arms around him, laughing all the while.

“Sure as I said you were a good man, didn’t I though? Aye, we’ve a real hero here, we do, and I’ll be the first to say it. Come, sit at this table and let me get you a beer and you tell us all about how you slew the foul beast.” And with that she was off to fetch the beer.

Felanar and his family sat at the table near the fireplace and villagers crowded all around the nearby tables, standing by the walls and overflowing up the staircase. Ale was served all round, and speeches were called for on this auspicious occasion. All of the usual suspicion and reticence directed at Felanar in the past seemed, at least for now, to melt away. The villager’s attitude seemed to be that it was one thing to be different, but it is quite another thing to be different in a way that helps us.

Felanar found himself in the uncomfortable position of having everyone anxiously waiting to hear details about a matter that still mystified him. He was also unused to all this attention, and his old shyness overwhelmed him. Too, the image of that broken woman on the dock still haunted him, and he felt uncomfortable celebrating at a time when she and her children were suffering so terribly. Still, the throng insisted and he finally outlined a factual account of what happened, with no embellishment whatsoever. He was quickly done, sat down, and drank some ale.

What Felanar’s account lacked in detail was soon made up by Chafrar’s version. Neatly avoiding the fact that he spent much of the climactic encounter face down on the boat, Chafrar had the inn roaring with laughter at the pitiful dragon who stood no chance against his son! As the story got told and retold, Felanar felt more and more uncomfortable with the increasing levity of the room. Finally he excused himself and worked his way out the door, fending off good wishes all the way.

As he stood outside in the sunshine, he caught his breath and sighed. His mind was racing with thoughts. Was he a hero? He did go to the rescue of those men, he acknowledged to himself. But he had no idea what to do when he got there. Yes, the dragon had fled, but why did it do so? Surely a sword wasn’t enough to scare off such a mighty creature. Then too, that look in its eyes confused him. He did see intelligence there, but what was it thinking? Why did it seem frightened at the end? It couldn’t have been the sword – the dragon had surely seen the sword all along. Yet fear was present in those intelligent eyes. Fear of his determination perhaps? Were dragons unused to victims standing up for themselves?

A softly spoken, “What’s troubling you?” interrupted that line of thought. Kara had left the inn and walked up next to her older brother and laid a hand on his shoulder.

Felanar and Kara began walking to their home through the woods as he explained all that was on his mind. Kara agreed that it was odd and asked if Felanar had tried speaking to the dragon.

“Well, I did yell at it, but not in the way of the elves, if that’s what you mean. I wouldn’t even want to think like a dragon, Kara. There was evil in his eyes, evil such as I have never seen. I would not learn their ways enough to communicate with them.” He paused for a moment. “You know what is truly troubling me, Kara?”

She looked at him inquisitively.

“I told you I saw intelligence in its eyes, and evil too. But I saw something else. It makes no sense, but the more I think about it the more I know it’s true. Kara, I saw recognition in its eyes before it fled!”

“Recognition? How would it know you?”

“This is what I keep asking myself. Why would a dragon recognize me? Yet those eyes were very expressive and what I saw was recognition. Though of what I cannot say.”

“It recognized my big brother, that’s what!” She smiled as she said this, but then turned serious again.

“We must ask the elves the next time we speak with them. Perhaps they know the answer to dragons,” said Kara quietly. They walked quietly along the path, far from the crowds and noise. As they were approaching the path to their own house, Felanar stopped suddenly. He turned toward his sister and said, “Come, Kara, there is someone who needs more support than those mindless crowds at the inn can provide.”

He led his sister toward the house of the man who had been killed, explaining his feelings along the way. Kara, hearing about the scene at the dock, felt her heart break at the telling. They soon arrived at the house. It was a modest dwelling, for this had been a modest family. The house spoke of care from those who tended it, but not of wealth or power. It was a simple home for a fisherman and his family.

Inside, neighbors were comforting the widow and caring for the small children. They looked up as Felanar and Kara entered and stepped aside to let them approach. The grieving woman looked up with eyes red from tears, still gulping in air with each heave of her body. Her mouth turned upward slightly at the sight of the man who saved the others, and then down at the thought that he was too late to save her own husband. She again burst into tears.

Kara also began to cry and kneeling down by the woman’s side she put her arms around her neck. “I’m so very sorry for your loss. He was a good man, and a good husband, and your loss is great,” she said between her tears.

The woman nodded and managed to say, “Yes, and the children, what will become of the children?” She looked wildly at Kara.

Felanar spoke up. “Do not fear for your future. You have friends who will look after you and your children. Our family will see to it that you are never without. The village is not so harsh that it cannot care for its own.”

He paused, anguished in thought and sick at heart. “Please forgive me, but I should have acted sooner.” He turned away in grief at the sight he held in his mind of her husband being swallowed by the beast. He knew that there was nothing he could have done to save him; it happened too quickly. Felanar could never have made it over in time to save that first man. In fact, it was the very act of his diving overboard that probably spared the other two men. All of that didn’t lessen Felanar’s grief and his desire to have been able to do more.

He and Kara gave a few more words of comfort and support to the widow and the neighbors thanked them for their kindness. There wasn’t much more to be done at that moment, for the woman was beside herself with grief. She had loved her husband very much and now he was gone. It would take time to recover from this sudden blow. Felanar and Kara made their leave and walked back to their house with heavy hearts.

Never did a hero feel less like one.