Dragon Riders of Etrea 2—Chapter 25

Henrik stood there for a moment, staring at the saddle mounted on the massive dragon’s back. He would be doing the same one day, and from he understood Calduin would grow to be even larger than Cazeth. 

“Come on,” Isobel said. She smiled at Henrik, then walked over to the great dragon and climbed onto her shoulder. When she reached the saddle, she stood behind it, on Cazeth’s neck, and motioned for Henrik to come.

Henrik shook his head at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. If someone would have told him two or three months earlier that he would be riding a dragon, he would have laughed in their face. And there he was, climbing up Cazeth’s hugely muscled front leg. 

Her scales felt peculiar, both soft and hard at the same time. It was like a piece of cloth made from small diamonds linked together. He could tell that almost nothing would make it through the dragon’s skin.

Isobel reached down and offered her hand.

“Are you sure about that?” Henrik asked. He probably weighed twice what she did, and that was no exaggeration. Isobel was roughly average height for a woman, maybe an inch or two taller, whereas most men only came up to Henrik’s shoulder.

She just smiled. “I think I can handle you.”

He reached up and they grabbed wrists. Her grip was shockingly strong; few men could even generate that much force. With one hand on the rear of the saddle and the other holding onto Henrik, Isobel scrunched her face and yanked him up to the dragon’s neck.

Henrik just stared at her. “How in the Nine Hells did you do that?” he asked.

Isobel flexed her arm, the corded muscle visible even through the thin material of her shirt. “We get gifts from our dragons, remember.” She winked and gestured toward the saddle. “Go ahead and sit down.”

The saddle looked rather similar to one designed for a horse, but of course it was notably larger, with a high pommel. Henrik examined it for a moment and noticed that it wasn’t made of leather. Instead, it was made of….

“This is made from dragon scales,” he said. “How did you manage that?”

“She sheds her skin every once in a while,” Isobel said. “We always save some, since it’s so strong. I have to use my sword to cut it; nothing else will.”

“Wait,” Henrik said, turning to face her. “Your sword can pierce dragon skin? I thought only mine could.”

Isobel shook her head. “The fabled black blades of the dragon riders can cut southern dragon skin, although it’s not easy. If I tried to attack a snow dragon, my blade would probably break in half. Only yours can do that.”

Henrik nodded slowly as he understood just how serious of a threat a fully grown snow dragon was. He quickly sent Calduin a message of trust and affection, just to keep the little guy happy.

He settled into the saddle, noting that it was surprisingly comfortable. Before he could even look around for Isobel, she moved around him—purposely rubbing her butt against him, of course—and sat right on his lap.

“Let me get comfortable,” she said, gyrating a bit. She shot Henrik a smile over her shoulder. “It’s not perfect, but I think it’ll work. I just have to strap us in.”

In her hand, she held four thick leather straps with sturdy brass clips on each end. They connected to thick steel rings on the saddle, then clipped to Henrik’s belt. The second set clipped on Isobel’s belt.

“So, that explains why you made me wear a belt today,” Henrik said.

“Exactly,” Isobel said, pulling hard on the strap to tighten it. She moved her butt around again while pulling on the strap, until she was pressed firmly against his crotch. Very firmly. “Gotta make sure we stay safe,” she said. “I suggest holding onto me very tightly. Don’t worry, you won’t hurt me.”

Henrik put his thick arms around her waist, and at a comment from her, held her even tighter. He had ridden a number of horses in his years, but he wasn’t sure what to expect.

Well, the way the dragon moved was beyond all expectations.

“Shit!” Henrik yelled as Cazeth suddenly leaped forward.

“Hold on tight!” Isobel shouted. Her grip on the pommel was white-knuckled.

The massive dragon moved much more quickly than Henrik expected. She went from stationary into a full run in a matter of three steps, and her enormous wings beat at the ground. Her powerful rear legs pushed as she leaped into the air, and with a strong flap of her wings she lifted into the air.

Henrik felt like his heart was sinking down into his stomach. Something that large shouldn’t be able to move that fast. With each beat of her wings she rose higher into the air, falling into a rhythm of lurching up and down.

Henrik was grateful for both Isobel’s strength and the leather straps. Without both, he certainly would have fallen. He glanced down past Cazeth’s shoulder and watched the ground fall away.

“Her landings are much easier,” Isobel said over her shoulder.

“I think standing in the middle of an earthquake would be easier than that,” Henrik said back. 

Isobel laughed. “Mother is very strong, and her speed still surprises me sometimes.” She leaned forward and patted the dragon on her thick neck. “She’s a good girl.”

Cazeth tossed her head at the comment.

“Where are we going?” Henrik asked.

Isobel shrugged. “I usually just like to let her fly. She appreciates beauty in the same way you and I do. You’ll see.”

Once Cazeth reached a high enough elevation, she slowed the flapping of her massive wings and instead glided on currents of warm air. That made for a much more pleasant ride, and Henrik was able to loosen his hold on Isobel.

“No,” she said, grabbing his arm.

With a smile, Henrik grabbed her tightly again.

They flew to the east, circling over mountains and valleys. A lush forest sprawled over hills and mountains, and Isobel pointed out the line where the snow began. Having lived in a warm climate his entire life, Henrik found it fascinating.

A single mountain peak loomed before them, so tall that its zenith disappeared somewhere in the clouds. Cazeth flapped her wings and flew toward it, then suddenly banked to one side. Henrik was immediately grateful for the thick leather straps holding him in the saddle.

Cazeth took them in a wide circle around the mountain. At one point, Isobel shouted and pointed down. Henrik looked over the side and saw a waterfall that looked to be at least a hundred feet tall. The water at the bottom gathered into a small lake before leaking down the mountain in a small stream.

“I swim there sometimes,” Isobel said. “The water is cold so not very often, but sometimes it helps focus my thoughts.”

Henrik had nothing to say to that. He hated cold water.

Cazeth took them further north, flying high above the ground. The air was cold that high up. He felt Isobel shiver once and tightened his grip on her, pressing her back against his chest. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him.

Henrik tried to take mental images of their journey and sent them to Calduin. The young dragon replied excitedly with his own images, showing him taking his first steps toward flying. His little wings flapped hard and he made it a few feet before falling back to the ground. Henrik felt guilty that he had missed that. It didn’t feel right, spending this much time away from the young dragon. He made a mental note to bring Calduin with him when he went to find Meriel, the third dragon rider.

The mountains gave way to a lush valley filled with trees in every shade of green. The waterfall they had seen earlier eventually formed into a stream that snaked its way through the valley. With high walls on every side, Henrik wondered what it was like down there. Nothing could get in or out, so the place would have evolved on its own for countless years.

He pointed down at the valley and Isobel nodded.

“It’s a strange place,” she said over her shoulder. “That’s another place I’ve been meaning to explore one day. Sometimes I see birds in every color of the rainbow flying around down there. I’ve caught glimpses of strange creatures, the likes of which I’ve never before seen.”

“Like what?” Henrik asked.

“They’re hard to describe,” she replied. “Some are small and furry, about the size of the small antelope that populate the mountains, but a different color. Once I saw something that looked like a small person, maybe three feet tall, but covered in fur and with a tail. It watched us fly overhead, completely fascinated. I got the sense it was an intelligent creature.”

“That does sound strange,” Henrik said. 

Cazeth banked to the left, taking them in a loop around another mountain before finally selecting a path. Henrik checked the position of the sun and deducted they were heading roughly south.

It didn’t take them very long to pass over the mountain range—the dragon flew much faster than even the best racehorse could run—and soon the foothills were visible. They passed over those as well, and Cazeth continued heading south.

“Where are we going now?” Henrik asked as the ground beneath them flattened out and changed to the sandy brown savannah of the orc wastes.

“She’s just exploring,” Isobel said. “Sometimes she likes to look around to find good places to hunt.”

Cazeth flapped her wings hard, taking them higher and higher. From such a high elevation, Henrik could see for miles. He had never experienced anything like that before; it was incredible. It made him excited for the days he would eventually ride Calduin. He tried to send him images of the sprawling plains.

The dragon continued for several more minutes, flying easily more than twice as fast as the fastest horse. When he thought back to how quickly Anslie and Tossyth had flown south to save them, it made sense.

“How fast can she go?” Henrik asked over the wind noise.

“You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Isobel shouted over her shoulder. “She takes things easy when I ride her—if she flew as fast as she could, these straps would probably break and I’d fall off.”

“Amazing,” Henrik said to himself as he looked around. Being able to see for such a long distance in every direction was simply incredible. He tried to look back over his shoulder to see how far back the foothills were, but they were already out of sight. She had flown nearly a full day’s journey in a matter of minutes.

She banked slightly to the west, her massive head scanning the area. Henrik briefly wondered how long it would take her to fly over to Anslie’s valley. She’d probably make the trip in a day with time to spare.

Cazeth’s head suddenly snapped to the left, and a moment later she turned sharply. Both Henrik and Isobel held on for dear life as the dragon beat her massive wings, picking up speed. Wind rushed past Henrik’s ears and nearly blinded him. He couldn’t even fathom how fast they were going.

After a few minutes she slowed, and Henrik saw why she had turned. 

“Something on the horizon,” he said, pointing slightly off to the left.

“I see it,” Isobel said.

Cazeth glided through the air, speeding toward the dark shape on the horizon. The dark shape eventually became clumps of people, which became a very large number of people marching. No, not people.

Orcs.

“What the….” Henrik began.

“I’ve never seen an orc army that size,” Isobel said in tones of wonder.

As they drew closer, Henrik tried to estimate the number of soldiers on the ground. It was well into the thousands, maybe as many as five thousand.

“Where are they going?” Henrik asked.

They flew closer and the orcs finally noticed them. A few foolishly launched arrows, and none of them came even remotely close to the dragon.

Isobel looked off to the side, then back to the army. She double checked, then looked over her shoulder at Henrik.

“They’re going for your dragon.”