Her Deal with a Dragon

~Vania~ Frost blanketed the ground as I stepped stepped out of the humble cottage I shared with my family. It was still dark and there were no longer any chickens to wake the household before dawn. I shivered against the cold and tucked my hands into my armpits as I trudged away from the house. This was our second winter since the imperial soldiers began enforcing the annexation of the Keydrow Peninsula. For generations, the Pharon Empire had honored our autonomy as a free state and holy land once possessed by the dragons, but the new Emperor was a greedy, practical man who was not above trampling on tradition when it suited him. He vowed to make the Alraidon Dynasty the greatest power in the world, burning his legacy into legend. Even if it meant killing his own siblings and desecrating the remains of Pharon's most sacred places. The decree appeared four years ago, tacked to the gate of every town, and nailed to every crossroad sign and handed out by messengers on foot and horseback. At fifteen, I had recently finished learning my letters and I was the first in our family to see it. "Imperial Decree:" it read, "The One chosen of the lineage of Dragons, Emperor of Pharon, Viltenior Aros Gepath Alradion, Third heir of the Great Alradion Dynasty, hereby claims his birthright as the One chosen of the Dragon Bloodline and henceforth shall govern the land known as the Keydrow peninsula. All loyal subjects of the Empire will be allowed to keep possession of their lands, so long as the statutes set forth in this degree are obeyed." Almost no one believed it, and most people simply moved on with their lives. Little did they know that it was only the beginning of their woes. My own apprehension only grew with each day and I read each bulletin, searching for any new word until I could recite the decree in my sleep. "Firstly, a tax shall be paid annually, equal to fifteen percent of the previous year's income. Secondly, every household will supply an able-bodied man or woman for military service. Pregnant women, children under 15 years, elders over 60 years, as well as the breadwinner of the household are exempt from military service. Thirdly, all fugitives shall be turned over to the imperial guards to receive justice." The entire thing was an utter disaster. And yet no one was worried. Not even at the tone of the last part of the decree. "In his great mercy, the Emperor has granted a grace period of six months to comply with the decree, else a penalty shall be imposed equal to half of the total value of all property within the household. By imperial appointment, Croph Banesark shall govern the Keydrow Peninsula as the emperor's proxy, to attend to all domestic matters. By the Blood of the Dragon, so let it be known to all and obeyed." The fact that an official had been appointed was enough to convince me that the whole thing was all too real. And if that was the case, we had every reason to be very, very worried. Father had once served the Emperor's brother, Sulifaur Alraidon, as his bodyguard, and helped the younger prince in his effort to gain the throne. Of course the coup failed, and the prince was imprisoned in an estate to the north, while my father was forced into exile as a rebel traitor. Father had laughed off my concern when I mentioned it. "It's a bluff, Vani," he kept saying, "No one, even that greedy worm would be stupid enough to lay claim to a dragon's territory." Even so, I worried for weeks afterwards as the deadline crept ever nearer. The day came and went, and nothing happened. then a week passed, then two. The three months. A year. In the summer of the second year after the Decree, the imperial army came to enforce the decree. A few families had paid their dues and were spared the loss of half their possessions. Seeing that the Empire was serious, the locals turned against each other. They resented those who had escaped punishment and began helping the imperials to hunt down fugitives in order to win back their property. And so it was that a mob appeared in our front yard, demanding that my father surrender himself. He went without a fight, taking only a few minutes to say goodbye. "Take care of your mother and siblings Vania. I'm counting on you as the eldest." He told me. They were the last words he said to me before the soldiers dragged him away. Of course we were punished. Rather than giving up the land, mother sacrificed most of the stored food and livestock; and I foolishly thought that we might be able to make it. Then the new Lord of Keydrow sent down our punishment for not turning father over to them. Our pastures and orchard were seized and the remaining livestock claimed in recompense, except for a single cow. The officer saw my mother's distended belly and took pity on us. We were able to get through the winter on our meager stores of food, but when spring came, so did tax time. And my baby brother. And again, we had nothing to show. Worse yet, the conscription officer came and my younger brother Gene, the second-born was conscripted at 16. As the eldest, it should have been me, but with mother nursing and no one else was old enough to care for the family or serve as I was the main breadwinner. The imperials seized more of our fallow land in taxes and we were forced to sell the cow to buy garden seeds. It was then I knew then that there was no coming back. Even so, I kept assuring my family that we would be alright. That somehow, I would find a way to provide for all of us and raise the taxes For next year. "The taxes will be lower since we have less land." I lied over and over again. I knew very well that the magistrate would be levying the taxes based on the value of our holdings at the beginning of the year, before the land seizure. My feet carried me out across the frosted meadows to the creek where my nets were cast. Tears of relief prickled my eyes as I pulled in several nice-looking fish. The cold water stung my dry, cracked hands as I extracted my catch and dropped them into my basket. They would make a nice breakfast, at least. Every single mouthful of food I brought home was going towards the family's next meal, and a day's catch of fish and game was all that stood between us and hunger. No one would hire me or let me work in exchange for supplies, since most of them could not afford it. And even if they could, most of them wouldn't. After all, they blamed my father for bringing down the Dynasty's wrath with his treason. During the summer it was bearable, but now winter was looming and I knew that I had to find a way or we would lose someone. The baby, or my mother would be first. I relaid the nets and moved on, to the thickets on the north side of our property. A small quail squawked and scurried away from me as I trudged along my game path. A sure sign that I needed to rotate my traps again. A single rabbit was the only thing I caught and it too went into the basket. I reset the deadfall and straightened to blow on my freezing hands. My eyes strayed unbidden to the single, towering peak that dominated the horizon of Keydrow Peninsula. Draconis Melanti, or Dragon's Rest, was a dormant volcano where the dragons had once nested, according to legend. It lay silent and empty, save for the old path that led inside to the sacrificial alter where my mother's ancestors had made offerings to their deities. The lore was all but lost, forgotten as the dragons died out and retreated from among men. Whenever I asked my mother about it, her face would fill with bitterness and her voice would harden. "There is nothing worth telling," she always insisted, "The dragons lived, they died and that is the end." But she always forbade us to go anywhere near the mountain. And she always caught us when we tried. But things were different now. And I was desperate. Even desperate enough to go rob a dragon's horde, mayhap. With that thought in mind, I returned home. My 15 year old sister Ruelle greeted me with a smile as I stomped in, chilled to the bone. At least the house was warm, I noted. For now, at least. The bitter thought was just one more to join the rest. I looked around as I swung the basket down on the table and turned to hold my hands out to the stove. "Is Gelta not here?" I asked. Ruelle shook her blonde head. "He left for the fort not long after you did. Apparently he was able to get more work." I nodded slowly as my gut twisted painfully. Gelta was only 13, but knowing my brother as I did, I suspected that the work was just an excuse to skip breakfast and leave more for our younger siblings and mother. And maybe, just maybe, he was joining the soldiers for mess. I desperately hoped that was the case. Of course I would never ask, but the thought was comforting. As Ruelle began dressing out the fish, I turned back to the door. "I'll be heading out to the orchard. I have more traps out there." I told her cheerfully as I picked up the basket and slung it across my back. I paused by the door to pull on my boots and called back over my shoulder, "I'll be back for lunch." Ruelle gave me a knowing look and I fought to keep my expression light. She looked so much like our father, with big, blue eyes that made it so hard to lie to her. But the sight of her thin face was enough to banish the twinge of guilt I felt. I well knew that my own face was just as hollow. My brown curls were dull and lifeless and there were dark circles under my eyes. But I was the oldest. Making sacrifices was supposed to be my job. Quickly, I made my escape and somehow found my feet carrying me towards Dragon's Rest. Even if she tried, my mother wouldn't be able to stop me this time. For generations, my family had made offerings to the dragons. Now it was time for them to repay the debt.