Phoenix Destiny

Eleven

Summer faded into fall as Jaron traveled with the soldiers. He learned songs from other villages to entertain the soldiers at night. In addition to songs, he listened to rumors of growing unrest in the northern kingdoms, which meant more profit for mercenaries. Jaron became accustomed to the rowdy celebrations that often continued into nearby villages and avoided them by slipping into the forest. No one seemed to notice.

The dragon became languid. It slept away most of the winter, which was windy and accompanied by large amounts of snow. Gambler grew a long coat and Jaron found himself jealous. Such weather was not something he was prepared for as he had lived his entire life on the Southern Continent, which was distinctly warmer. And he couldn’t just grow a warm coat.

Unexpectedly, the company disbanded for the season. The soldiers retreated to their individual homes or traveled on their own until spring. Jaron was released from his servitude with the caveat that he had to return in spring.

He headed to the continent’s southern reaches, where it was more temperate, though still colder than he liked. Choosing a small village, he performed enough to earn a bed in a cold room. At the very least, it was out of the wind and falling snow.

As spring approached and the ground thawed, Ivy woke from her semi-hibernation. She had grown considerably during her slumber and seemed stronger. Stretching her wings, she made several practice glides and even a few flights. It was clear, though, she needed more space.

With the warm weather, Jaron prepared to return to the training meadow as previously agreed and bid farewell to the villagers. A few looked genuinely sad to see him go, and he wondered if he would return to it next year.

Finally, Ivy had the space she needed to really take wing. At first, she perched on his shoulder and would take short flights, circling around him before returning. Gradually, those flights became longer until she spent most of her time aloft. Jaron watched her with an easy smile.

He envied the dragon for its freedom and regretted that it would have to hide itself again once they reached the camp. On one of his stops at an inn, he met a falconer. After speaking with them, he was struck with an idea.

Ivy was much stronger now. Perhaps she could be trained like a falcon. She was certainly intelligent enough, perhaps too smart, but it would be a challenge for them both.

Before rejoining the soldiers, Jaron purchased a pair of leather gloves. Ivy’s talons were hard now and painful, readily piercing through his sleeves. The first step in her training was teaching her to return and land when he called for her. When they neared the training grounds, he secreted Ivy in his packs before he reached the meadow. Predictably, the dragon was not happy but curled up among his other belongings.

Nothing had changed since he left, save for the green leaves unfurling in the warming sunlight. The tents almost looked white in the sunshine, but as he got closer, he saw that they were the same drab gray and tan. As before, they were arranged in units surrounding the main pavilion. It, like the others, was dingy with wear and time.

A spring breeze rustled through the leaves and caused the tents to sway. A few men had already gathered their weapons to train at one end of the meadow, but most relaxed on the peaceful spring day. Jaron shivered. Strange as it was to admit it, he felt as if he had returned home after a long exile.

“Well, jester, the men and I didn’t think that you would show,” Dorrall jeered as he dismounted and led Gambler into camp.

The voice jarred Jaron from his thoughts. Gambler tensed, snorting. Dorrall laughed, but few of the others followed. Some even seemed annoyed by their comrade’s banter. Ignoring the soldier, which seemed the best option, Jaron continued to the pavilion to report to the General.

A pair of soldiers guarded it in much the same way as he remembered from the previous season. They nodded to Jaron and one announced him to the occupant within. The tent’s flaps blew open as the General emerged. He seemed rounder than Jaron remembered, but the winter had been good to him.

“Jaron, my boy!” he laughed, seizing Jaron in a bear hug. “Some of the men were wondering whether you’d return, but I knew you’d keep your word.”

“General,” Jaron greeted when he was finally released, “I am a man of my word.”

“Come along, my boy, I’ll show you to your tent.”

The General escorted him through the camp. Jaron’s tent was located near the supply wagons and shelters. As he was not a member of any particular unit, he had few choices of location. However, it was larger than his previous shelter and its distance from the pavilion meant he was now trusted.

“I missed your songs,” the General said as Jaron untied his packs, quickly piling them inside the tent should Ivy venture out. “The winter was very cold and gray without them.”

“Well, let me be the first to assure you, the winter was no less cold or gray with my songs.”

“Ha, ha!” the old soldier slapped him on the back, making it sting from his surprisingly forceful smacks. “Well said! You are probably right, but I would much rather have had the opportunity to see for myself. So, you sang for your room and board all winter?”

“It’s the life of an entertainer.”

“I think we will have to address that issue next season,” the General rubbed his prickly chin. “I can’t have our bard freezing to death.”

Jaron paused to look at the old soldier. The General seemed deep in thought. Something in his eyes reminded Jaron of a worried father. Then, he suddenly smiled, giving Jaron’s shoulder an unexpectedly fond pat before departing on other business.

“We might be getting in too deep here, Gambler,” Jaron said, more to himself than the horse.

The stallion huffed but, of course, he had no idea what the equine thought about the matter.

* * *

Jaron’s performances were sporadic over the next several days as soldiers continued to arrive. They were more interested in shedding excess weight from the winter than the new songs Jaron recited. Their preoccupation was his good fortune.

While the soldiers trained, Jaron took Gambler and Ivy on the first of their walks through the surrounding forest. The dragon sensed its master had ulterior motives and fidgeted while she perched on Gambler’s saddle. Out of sight of the camp, Jaron paused to put on the leather gloves. He hoped the thick leather was enough to protect his arms from the dragon’s surprisingly sharp claws.

“All right, Ivy, here,” Jaron presented his forearm. “Here, girl.”

The dragon looked at Jaron. She flexed her external ears and c****d her head to one side. Her eyes were large with curiosity.

“Come here, Ivy.”

The dragon’s nostrils twitched, but she didn’t dare reach out, knowing her claws hurt if not properly sheathed.

Jaron looked at the stallion, saying, “You weren’t nearly this difficult to train.”

The horse snorted as if comparing it to the dragon was ridiculous.

Jaron held out his forearm again and hit it with his other hand to show the gloves' protective function. Then he extended it to Ivy, letting her inspect it.

Ivy’s tongue darted in and out. She extended one taloned foot and experimentally raked her claws against it. When he showed no sign of pain, she crawled onto his forearm.

Jaron held his arm level. Ivy swayed, not used to the narrow perch. She spread her wings for balance. Jaron held her until his arm tired. Slowly, he reached out to the saddle. Hesitating a moment, Ivy crawled back onto the steadier perch and looked at him. Jaron rewarded her with the remains of his meal. Ivy greedily snapped up the biscuit and purred.

Jaron continued Ivy’s training, leaving the camp before dawn. Once the dragon understood what he wanted, it learned quickly. Like a falcon, it was a winged predator, patrolling its territory and hunting was instinctive. The trick, as the falconers said, was teaching the dragon to perform the maneuver on command.

After learning to land on his arm, Jaron trained her to circle in wide, expanding circuits. Since she was far more intelligent than a falcon, he hoped to teach her more specific commands. To start, he would have to teach her right and left. Then, when he whistled to get her attention, he could direct her flights through hand gestures. But there was no real way to convey to her what he wanted her to look for on these survey flights.

When she warned him of a bear with a screech that sent him scrambling onto Gambler’s back to escape, he wondered if he was training her, or if she was training him. Eventually, he noticed a pattern to her chirps and whistles: a rambling chirp seemed to indicate the area was safe; a whistle indicated something needed to be investigated; and a screech meant danger.

Ivy was growing and in need of the exercise training offered. It was getting more difficult to keep her confined in his tent. She was naturally curious and hunting broadened her diet. Yet the dragon also seemed to understand the need for secrecy. She waited for nightfall before sneaking out of the camp and would meet him as he ventured out in the early morning hours.