Lorcan: Dragonquest

Chapter 6

Author's note: I hope you've been enjoying this story so far. This chapter contains some scenes that are not suitable for younger readers; there's a fair amount of explicit violence and gore with mentions of stabbing and beheading. Since taking people's heads is an integral part of ancient Celtic warrior culture (and angst is my literary bread and butter) I could hardly leave it out. 

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The following morning, when Lorcan woke up, he was disoriented at first, but hazy memories of the night before prodded him insistently. Then the knowledge of what had occurred came to mind with a force that almost knocked him over. He sat for a moment with his head in his sticky hands. When he looked at them, he saw dried blood.

"Are you going to wash that off?" asked Tinkle.

"What? Yes..."

The gnomes led him to a stream where he washed his hands, then stripped off and washed himself all over. Soapwort bloomed nearby, and he plucked some leaves, put them on a flat rock, bashed them into a pulp with a large stone, then used the resulting mush to make a lather to clean himself with. Cokelli arrived with a towel just as he was ready to get out, and he dried himself off, unselfconsciously naked in the sunshine. He allowed the sun to warm his bare chest for a while, then pulled on a clean shirt and leggings.

Feeling refreshed, Lorcan was suddenly ravenous. He took some string and fishing hooks from their baggage, then went to catch some fish further upstream, sitting cross-legged on the bank with one end of the string tied to his finger.

Tinkle lay back against Lorcan's upper left shin looking up at him. "You're in a funny mood, Lorcan."

Lorcan spoke in a small voice. "I was a little girl yesterday, then I met a unicorn, rode on his back with Cokelli behind me, then I watched him kill a witch. I got her blood all over me."

"But you're a Soduane warrior," said Tinkle. "You've seen death before."

Lorcan shook his head. "Not like that. In Soduane, living is all about dying and either trying to avoid it or dying well enough to be remembered in the ballads. Over here, the rules are different, only nobody bothers to tell you what they are until you've broken them. At home, it's all about land and cattle and things like that. We kill each other—even family—for power or position or the love of a beautiful woman. There's a reason for it. I am here because I have proved myself a bit too well as a warrior. My brother Heckney is afraid I will try to take over as chief of our clan."

"Would you?"

"I am a great warrior. I am supposed to strive to be as powerful as I can, and that puts me at odds with everyone. The trouble is, you can't live like that, but that's the point; the idea is to thin out the opposition. When I heard that Adakan of Heftreeke was offering his crown to whoever could bring back a dragon's head, I came straight here because I thought I'd be able to get something for myself without killing my own brothers. Now that I am here, I have found people who kill for vanity or trivial offences, even if there's nothing to gain for it. I don't understand."

"You weren't like that when Lesitintigan first went after you," said Tinkle.

"I wasn't thinking about it when Lesintigan first came after me."

A tug on his finger repeated itself till Lorcan reeled the string around his other hand and pulled the fish in. He slapped it on a stone, pulled out the hook, found another worm, then re-baited the hook before he threw it in again.

"Do you ever think about this stuff?" asked the gnome.

"No," replied Lorcan. "I leave that to Cokelli, to be honest. I have never given much thought to anything, really. Last night, everything changed. My mind was opened when I looked into the unicorn's eyes, and now I can't think of anything but how sad it is that we have to be this way. Killing, and all. Of course, when we get attacked, I will have to kill again, but this time I'll feel bad about it."