The Walls of Jericho

History Lessons

With a heavy sigh, Rebecca nods. “May I get up?” When I eye her doubtfully, she offers her explanation without prompting. “It’s so I can get a text. You’ll need pictures to understand.”

I laugh quietly at the insult to my intelligence, shrug and nod. “You sit back down immediately after or I’ll cattle prod you.”

With a shudder, she rises, paces the few steps to the bookshelf, then selects a heavy text from it. Opening it, she flips through about twenty or so pages, then presses the spine so the book stays where she wants as she brings it to me.

“The oldest written story discovered with a mention of dragons is written in cuneiform,” Rebecca begins, laying the book on my lap and pointing to a photo of a series of broken tablets.

“These aren’t cuneiform. They’re hieroglyphs,” I state, easily recognizing the difference between hieroglyphic pictographs and cuneiform’s characteristic wedge-shaped impressions.

Surprisingly, Rebecca smiles pleasantly. “Good girl,” she compliments, turning the page for me. “You’re right. That’s the hieroglyphic text believed to be the source for this cuneiform story. The cuneiform tablet even states it’s a translation from an earlier period, and judging by the geographical information provided, it’s believed it came from the Old Kingdom of Egypt.”

“Okay. So Egypt is where dragons came from?”

Returning to the easy chair, Rebecca reclines comfortably against its padded back. “No. Everything I’ve read suggests dragons were once ubiquitous. Much like werewolves, they evolved as a convergent species with the prolific humans.”

“Convergence isn’t the same as being a superpopulation. How did they get into the human population?”

She gives me a dour look. “Neither species is ‘in’ the human population. As you put it, they’re both superspecies with the ability to pass for human.”

I snort. “If by ‘pass’ you mean stand out as taller, faster and more divinely beautiful than the vast majority of humans, sure. Back to the bit about bloodlines and dragon consorts.” I flip forward a few more pages in the book on my lap, studying the illuminated text and the colorful illustrations.

“You can’t just skip forward like that or you won’t understand the nuances,” she argues.

I roll my eyes. “How about you give me the CliffsNotes version so we can get on with it?”

Ignoring me, she settles into her story. “According to the dragon myths and legends, they were the original dominant genus on the planet. They’re a magical species of semidivine beings, gigantic reptiles able to shapeshift into the form of humans."

"They’re strong, handsome creatures who can assume either wholly human, part-human part-reptile or wholly reptilian form. They were divided into clans and ruled separate kingdoms on the surface of the earth.”

“Eventually, members of the royal families from two different clans bumped into each other, Ejder and Veles. They became friends and developed an alliance.”

I heave a deep sigh, rolling one wrist in a circle to get her to move on with the story.

“Ejder and Veles were unmated. As was the custom, to secure alliances, female dragons were presented to the ruling males of other clans. If the pair were destined mates, then an alliance was formed,” Rebecca continues.

“Wait! How do they know they’re destined? Are they like wolves? Do they have some extra sense for it?”

“No. Preordained mates are determined by consulting an oracle who can hear or read the choice from—.” She stops abruptly. “There’s a notepad and a pen on the desk. Write that down.”

“Write what down?”

“I’ve never researched the oracle. I don’t actually know how an oracle is determined. Or where or how they make the match of mates among dragons.”

“Huh,” I snort, jotting down the note as she asked and making a mental note to follow up on the research. “Okay, so dragons. Predestined mates. Ejder and Veles presented with females.”

“Oh, right.” Thus prompted, she continues the story. “One particular female, Kaida, was especially sought—both for her own spectacular beauty and for the alliance with her powerful clan. As it happened, she was the preordained mate of Ejder, but Veles was envious of the pairing. He claimed her and carried her off by force to his kingdom.”

“Ungh. Men are dumb.”

“I know, right?” she agrees. “Having evoked Ejder’s ire, Veles then summoned his allies and, lying, told them that Ejder had attempted to steal his predestined mate.”

“In the hopes of reaching a peaceful resolution to the conflict, Ejder sent emissaries to the court of Veles. When he refused to surrender Kaida, Ejder launched a campaign to exterminate him and his allies. That war raged over the surface of the earth, destroying everything in its path.”

“It was a massive conflict, on a scale never seen before. Their battle raged for year after year, devastating the ranks of both Ejder and Veles’ clans and that of their allies but eventually, Ejder came out victorious. By then, the war had cost them almost everyone they held dear. All of Kaida’s clan had been destroyed, and few remained of any of Veles or Ejder’s allies.”

“As punishment, Ejder ordered the m******e of every surviving dragon who had stood with Veles against him, further decimating the dragon population. Somehow during the bloodbath, Veles himself managed to escape.”

“He fled and sought protection among the human population, taking refuge as the mate of a human courtesan. In the hopes of fathering a new army to take against Ejder in vengeance, he lay with her, only to learn a human body couldn’t withstand the intense heat generated by a dragon’s body.”

“Why?”

Rebecca stares at me, confused. “Why what?”

“Why couldn’t she withstand the heat?”

Now she stares at me like I’m the biggest disappointment in existence, not to mention the biggest i***t, but even to save my dignity, I’m not telling her why I know it’s significant. “Because a dragon’s body generates a massive amount of heat. The—infusion, if you will, of dragon seed incinerates a body not able to regenerate at a significant rate while the stuff cools.”

“Regenerate? You mean heal?”

“Yes. Their fertilization process requires the heat, so the female must have the capacity to endure it.”

Okay, now I’m getting somewhere. I file that information away mentally to consider more later. “Alright. So Veles is out to rebuild an army but instead he’s leaving a trail of bodies.”

“Exactly. Then, strangely, he encounters one female who can survive his breeding.”

Now I can see this story coming. “Let me guess. She’s a werewolf.”

Rebecca nods. “She’s a werewolf. As it happens, the kingdom Veles fled to is one ruled by werewolves, also masquerading in human form. But again, with no oracle, he has no idea which female might survive. He had no way to identify a shewolf from the rest of the population. He still wants an army though, so he keeps searching for more shewolves the fiery way and eventually finds another.”

“Gross, more bodies.”

“Yes, more bodies. And a trail for Ejder’s men to follow that leads them into the werewolf kingdom.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not. The werewolf king captures Veles and his mates before Ejder’s men arrive. He then sends word asking Ejder to come in person to claim him and bring a ransom. He invites the dragon king to bring his allied kings and family and they’ll celebrate the capture of the instigator of the war.”

“So they all showed up for the party. That's just brilliant."

“They all showed up for the party," she confirms. "The werewolf king took them all prisoner to execute along with Veles. On the day of the execution, a child sage appeared in the castle grounds. She interfered and beseeched the werewolf king to spare them as some dragons were also wolves now.”

I smile, tilting my head back in comprehension. “Ah. The children of Veles werewolf mates. Two bloodlines.”

“Two bloodlines,” Rebecca nods. “The sage negotiated an end to the slaughter, reminding the werewolf king that yes, dragons were potentially dangerous, but they were also often beneficial. He agreed to set the dragons and their offspring free on the condition that they retreat below ground to a rumored magical kingdom of resplendent palaces ornamented with precious gems.”

Looking at the book in my lap, I flip through some more pages. “If they're all supposed to be in their underground kingdom, then how do we have a dragon in Crossroads?”

“The dragons didn’t completely honor the bargain, of course,” she says flatly. “So much of their population had been annihilated that even in a protected underground kingdom and with semidivine extended lives, there weren’t enough of them to carry on the species. They took to human form and rose, seeking female werewolf companions again.”

Considering what she’s said, I flip through the pages some more, studying the illustrations. Many of the dragons are pictured in their zoomorphic form and resemble anything from winged serpents to enormous fire-breathing lizards of every hue, but a few are drawn in partial human form, often with the hooded or scaled head of the dragon and the fantastic body of an exceptionally fit human specimen. Those that are illustrated in completely human form are clearly creatures of striking beauty, often shown in positions of benevolence, standing behind heroes accomplishing some miraculous feat.

Turning another page, I freeze, staring wide eyed at the image there. The picture label reads: ‘Sobek, derived from Sbk in Egyptian which is a causative of the verb meaning ‘to impregnate’. 

Well, isn’t that just fitting? 

He’s clad in Egyptian robes of nobility, with dark beautiful skin on an extraordinarily magnificent body and the head of a crocodile. Quite frankly, he’s fantastically gorgeous. I tap the page with a finger. “I’ve seen this guy.”

Rebecca leans forward, peering at the page. “Sobek? I’m not surprised. He was a popular Egyptian god.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I met this man. He had the head of a human, but he was beautiful like this. Handsomely built. Big. Strong. And naked on the beach after dark.”

Across from me, she gives a trembling gasp. “You met the dragon!? What happened!?”

My mind flashes back to that encounter with the imperious man in the dark who threatened to have me incarcerated for being on a private beach. I shrug. “I tased him.”

Rebecca blanches, which pale as she is is pretty hard to do, then she looks nauseous. “You—did—what?” Her voice quivers.

“He threatened to have me thrown in jail, so I tased him so I could get away.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

“You look like you’re going to be sick.” I admit, I take a small amount of pleasure in her discomfort. Still, I have no desire to watch her vomit, or to clean it up. Bending, I slide the waste bucket out from under the desk and push it to her. “Maybe you should lay down and put your feet up on the chair.”

“I’ll be fine,” she whispers.

She doesn’t look like she’ll be fine. To take her mind off whatever it’s presently on, I ask, “So dragons returned to the surface. What other stories are there?”

Struggling to get a hold of herself, Rebecca shakes her head to clear it. “Um, there’s one from Charlemagne’s rule. Jilocasin. He was a well-known and respected troubadour, and he made brief sojourns to sing his verses and listen to the creations of the other poets at the court of the king.”

“Okay. How’d they know he was a dragon?”

“He rescued a woman from highwaymen and took her back to his castle. There, he and his servants nursed her and the child she had brought with her back to health. She’d been forced to marry her cousin after being widowed, and the man had wanted to kill her firstborn son of her dead husband, so she’d fled. She asked for Jilocasin’s protection as the lord of the castle. Eventually, he revealed his dragon identity to her, but she was deeply in love and stayed anyway. She became pregnant again but died in childbirth. Inconsolable, Jilocasin raised both the sons and guided them in adulthood to seizing the castle and birthright stolen by her cousin.”

“Hmmm. Jilocasin was apparently human enough in human form to beget a child on a woman who must have been of werewolf descent,” I reply. That fits with the nightmare I had earlier this morning. “Are there others?”

She nods. “The court of Eleanor of Aquataine. Another troubadour who won a poetry contest and was asked to remain at court. He was rumored to be handsome and mysterious. The daughter of a lord at court, Griselda, fell in love with him and begged him to marry her. He agreed on the condition that she never seek him when he wasn’t with her. One day when he made to disappear, she followed, discovering he kept a secret room. She snuck in after him only to discover him in the process of shifting to the form of a huge golden dragon. When he realized she’d broken her promise, he banished her.”

"Do they have to shift to dragon form?"

"I couldn't say for sure. There's a— drive to shift in wolves. I wouldn't be surprised if the same is true of dragons."

“Are all the stories of male dragons beguiling females into romantic affairs?”

“Many are. Dragons, like werewolves, are ardent and tender lovers. They’re also exceptionally generous to their mates. If you know anything about human men, that’s a rarity for a woman to find. They’re not likely to waste the opportunity if it's presented to them.”

“Tell me a female dragon story.”

Rebecca inhales deeply, searching her memory. “Melusine. She was a dragoness who took the form of a beautiful young woman and mesmerized the Lord of Lusignan when he stumbled upon her while out riding. Like with Griselda, he implored Melusine to marry him, and she consented, but only if he would agree to not look at her on Saturdays. They married. She brought him great wealth and brought prosperity to his kingdom. She gave him ten heirs—.”

“Ah, the Lord of Lusignan was werewolf then? Or can a human male father children on a female dragon?”

“The line of Lusignan is werewolf. I’m not certain the mechanics there, though the female may simply generate the heat at the time of impregnation.”

“Ooh,” I grimace. “That’s got to suck.”

“Seems to me it would suck in either circumstance.”

“True,” I agree, “but men are such babies about that thing. Women tolerate all kinds of unpleasantness—periods, pelvic exams, PAP smears, speculums—and don’t complain.”

Rebecca laughs, genuinely laughs, and it’s a strange sound considering how stoic she is otherwise. “You might have a point.”

 “Is there a happy ending for Melusine?”

“Of course not. Eventually, her husband is bedeviled by his brother about her unfaithfulness and follows her. He found her in the bath in dragon form and recoiled in horror. She fled, but some say she can still be seen flying above the castle on moonless nights.”

“Huh. Moral of the story: beware of mysterious strangers who keep a bunch of secrets about their past and make demands about their ‘me time’.”

“I guess. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to say they get lonely too.”

“And the royal werewolf bloodlines? One is yours. Whose is the other one? Channing’s?”

Rebecca’s brows draw together in a frown. “How did you know mine is one?”

I roll my eyes. “Wild guess. Who’s the other?”

“It’s lost. That’s what led to the problem.”

Peering at her, I drawl, “Okay. What’s the problem with the lost bloodline?”

“The dragon came with an oracle. Her name was Jillian. About four hundred years ago. He demanded his predestined mate. Only there was another werewolf suitor. He refused to relinquish her and it started a war.”

“Let me guess. This war that Channing and your brother are still fighting. Is the dragon’s predestined mate even still alive?”

She shakes her head.

“Then why is the war ongoing?”

"I don't think anyone really knows, except maybe the dragon."