Dragon Soul - The Ancestor Gods Saga Book 1

4. Here Be Dragons

The smell finally overwhelmed me, and I had no option but to retch up what little lunch I had consumed. When an enormous beast such as a dragon dies, there is a lot of corpse to decompose and that generates the sort of stench that lays across the countryside like a miasma. It took me several moments to bring my guts back under control and then I leaned against a tree and stared down at the slain animal.

Dragons are immortal. The ancestor gods created them when they were first toying with life and what it should be like. The dragons were pets, until they tired of them, which, unfortunately, is what the ancestor gods do easily.

Abandoned, the dragons settled into life on the mortal world and were contend for many thousands of years. Then the ancestor gods created people and things became complicated. Dragons saw people as prey. People saw dragons as a threat that needed to be destroyed. After millennia of being the most feared creatures around, dragons finally were challenged and though they killed many mortals, more kept coming and they learned.

Dragons are clever, but so are people. The dragons found themselves being outwitted and one by one they were slain.

I confess that until I stood on that road, trying to keep my stomach in order, I had thought dragons extinct.

After the initial revulsion at rotting dragon had passed, I decided to take a closer look. I had never come across a dragon in the flesh, having only ever seen them in book illustrations or paintings. I would likely never have this opportunity again.

I scrambled down the sloping side of the valley. It was steep in places, and I had to watch my footing, when I reached the bottom, the smell was almost enough to send me away again. Only my determination kept me moving towards the massive corpse.

The large triangular head rested with the chin on the ground, tilted sharply to one side and with the eyes closed. There was a peacefulness about the beast's expression, as if it were just sleeping. I reached out with caution to touch the scaly nose. Despite the clear decomposition, some irrational part of me had this dread the creature would suddenly come alive.

The scales were cold beneath my fingers but were beautifully smooth. They were a sensual pleasure to touch, like soft silk, or the delicate fur of a young rabbit.

Though I knew the horror dragons could inflict, I felt saddened to see such a mighty animal slain. I would never see it fly, using its giant wings to pound the air and take itself up into the sky. The more I looked, the sadder I felt.

The wings had been stripped for the leathery hide that stretched between the bony struts. Dragon skin was hard wearing and would be used to make capes or battle jerkins, though only the wealthiest would be able to afford them.

Where the beast lay on its side, its belly had been exposed and scavengers had cut it open to extract the organs within. Dragon body parts could be used in ritual magic and healing medicines. Some serious illnesses could only be cured using dragon-based remedies – or so it was said. What was left behind was a hulking ribcage, the bones exposed and looking like the ridges of a cave roof.

I peered inside the carcass and saw a heavy-duty spear that was smeared with gore. It must have been used to kill the creature, probably pierced its heart and then, when the heart was removed, the spear was tossed aside.

All the signs of the great battle that must have been fought here had gone, except that spear and the dead dragon itself. I stepped away, feeling a fresh sense of nausea. I found a rock at the base of the valley wall, where I could sit for a moment and recover from the sight and the smell.

I am not squeamish, far from it. I have used my sword and bow against those who have thought a woman riding alone was an easy target, but I do not relish death and the sight of what may very well be the last dragon to exist on this world hacked to pieces left a bad feeling in my chest.