The Return of the Dragonhawk

Epilogue - YBS 3025

Elekandro looked up at the sun, which was surely at its zenith. When would Mother and Aunt Rhoz return from playing with the horses? His stomach was growling, and everything was set up and ready for Aunt Rhoz' natal day feast. It was beyond him why she would insist on having her birthday celebrations in a pasture. There were many more interesting things to see and do in Draklunys, and servants to take care of the children. Every year, he had asked the Hawk, the Dragon, and Tirena Kyra to send a downpour of rain on the Dragonhold to force a change of plan, but he had never been rewarded by a favourable response.

His youngest sibling, Belard, stirred in his lap, where he had been napping. "I am hungry," he said in the Ur-Tongue.

"So am I," Elekandro said impatiently. "But we must wait." He frowned at the idyllic landscape. The twins, Tir and Tirenna, were happily picking flowers with their cousin Odokia in the meadow. Cousin Auri, bride of only a year and already a mother, was resting tranquilly beside him, her back against a tree trunk, nursing her babe. Everyone else, even Gamma Inteza, had gone to see the herd of horses who roamed free in the Dragonhold. Elekandro let it be known that he had no use for horses which were not equipped with bit and bridle. It irked him endlessly that his younger sister Elena had been able ride almost from birth, and even the wildest horseflesh would submit to her without as much as a rope halter. Rather than being publicly outdone, he chose to remain with the supply wagons.

Belard looked hopefully at the horizon. "Are they coming soon?" He would gladly have followed them, but he had stepped on a sharp stone with his bare foot and twisted his leg. Even after the application of healing spells, a painful limp had remained.

"Soon," Elekandro assured him with a certainty he did not feel. "Then we will have our feast."

Belard squirmed out of his lap. "Tell me a story."

"I cannot think of one."

"Tell me about Mother's wedding," Belard said.

Mother's wedding! That, at least, made Elekandro unique in the family -- he was the only one of the five children who had been at the wedding. Elena, Tir and Tirenna had tired of the tale, but Belard still loved to hear it.

"I was the ring-bearer, you know," he said. He always began with that sentence.

"Indeed you were!" Auri's silver laugh rang out. "We all had to wait until you got your clothes back on!"

Elekandro's cheeks flushed. This was a part of the story he preferred not to tell. The principal decoration for the wedding feast had been a magical multi-coloured fountain, irresistible to a three-year-old who loved water. He was careful to remove his clothes before bathing in it, so as not to get them wet. His cleverness was rewarded with a brace of stinging slaps on his bare buttocks from an exasperated Martenn.

"You forgot your clothes?" Belard asked.

"Not exactly . . ." Elekandro said.

"He took them off," Auri said, showing no mercy. "He squirmed and fought while Martenn tried to put them back on. His howling echoed through the whole castle while the bridal procession awaited his pleasure."

Elekandro felt the warmth in his cheeks travel down his neck into his chest. He hung his head, knowing that Auri's tongue would grow sharper if he fought back.

"Did you mean to be bad?" Belard asked with intuitive understanding.

"No," Elekandro said. "I just wanted to be in that beautiful fountain with all the colours." He remembered the enchantment of the moment when he had first seen it, and knew that, despite the embarrassment that followed, his story was not complete without it.

"True enough," Auri said, her tone mellowing. "He meant no harm. Martenn understood that too. It is said that was the first and only time she ever admitted to being too hasty in her discipline."

Elekandro looked over at his cousin in surprise. Auri smiled at him with a tenderness she had never shown before. "We should not have teased you so."

He nodded, his heart much lighter. "I suppose it was tempting when I was so swift to take offence."

"We were children," she said.

We were children. Elekandro pondered the import of Auri's judgement until Belard jostled his arm impatiently. "Tell the rest."

Elekandro launched into his narrative, by now well-rehearsed, of how he had carried the brocade ring-cushion in the bridal procession and presented it to the groom at exactly the proper moment. He described the magnificence of the robes of the priests, the silver hawk on Acontis' chest and the brooch in the shape of a wildcat on the bride's shoulder. He remembered the sweet secret smile on the face of the woman he knew as Gamma Eyra and later learned to call Mother. He hummed a few notes of the mystical chant the mages intoned as the couple left the hall to encounter the dragon.

"The wait was long," Elekandro said, "and my fancy clothes became hot and itchy. Dada Tir took my hand and took me outside." He paused dramatically. Belard looked up, his eyes round, as if he had no idea what was coming.

"Mother and 'Contis were just coming down the tower steps, but I did not know her, because she was young again. I hid my face against Dada Tir and cried. I thought the dragon had eaten my Gamma Eyra."

"Did you see the dragon?"

"Not that day. But I did see him other times."

Belard asked the usual questions about the dragon, and Elekandro gave his usual answers.

"Are you truly going questing with your Dada Tir next summer?" Auri asked, breaking into the litany of draconian marvels.

"Yes." Elekandro sat up straight, full of joyful anticipation. Much as he admired Acontis, Gundar would always be the father of his heart. "Mother has given her consent, provided I finish my studies first. When I return, I will have many new stories that everyone will be itching to hear!"

Elekandro was just launching into a vivid description of the feast and festivities, and of the golden apricot brandy that had lulled him into a long and relaxing sleep under a bench, when Alyx, Acontis, Drawyn and Inteza came over the brow of the hill, shepherding the remaining children. Tir, Tirenna and Odokia ran to greet them, brandishing their flowers.

"Where are Aunt Rhoz and Mother?" Elekandro asked in consternation, knowing that he must continue to hunger until they arrived.

"Engaging in some woman talk," Alyx said, smiling indulgently. "They will catch up with us soon."

Belard rose to his feet, wincing, and limped to Alyx. "Uncle," he asked, with the same eager curiosity he had showed the very first time he posed the question, "What happened to the dragon?"

Alyx scooped him into his arms. "He returned to sleep in the heart of Headless Mountain on the Day of Restoration -- the very day your father and mother were married."

"Why?"

"Because his work was done."

Belard snuggled into the Dragonkeeper's shoulder. "If we need him again, will he come back?"

Alyx stroked the child's hair for a moment before answering. "Yes, he will."

"How do you know?"

"I am the Dragonkeeper," Alyx said with indisputable finality, his sapphire eyes reflecting the sunshine. "It is my business to know these things."