When she failed to bite him, she spread her wings again and tried a new tactic. She flew low and skimmed the rocky mountain top, trying to smash him as he flashed past. He missed striking the rocks by a hands breadth, nearly hitting several tall trees. She tried again on the next peak. Gareth screamed and yelled so loud his voice failed as he twisted and turned.
Then she flew higher again, circling and diving down the side of the mountain, again with him barely brushing against the tops of trees. Gareth dangled below, even closer with each pass. Gareth could have touched some of the treetops on the last mountain.
As he spun on the end of the rope, he saw the sparkle of sunlight glinting on water far ahead, over the trees and at the end of the valley. The dragon dipped her head, flying faster and faster, wings beating harder, her new objective seemed to be heading for the water. Gareth held his knife in his hand, a glimmer of hope foremost in his mind. Splashing into the water sounded better than anything he’d faced.
The dragon flew over smaller mountains along the coastline and finally she swooped low over the water, snarling and angry in frustration. Her eyes found him again, and she dived and turned in the air to try reaching him. She dived again, heading directly for the surface. As his feet splashed cold water, Gareth cut the rope above his handhold. The loop around his waist suddenly expanded even as his body plowed deep into the water. His head and body went under and he tasted saltwater for the first time.
The heavy leather apron and gloves dragged him down as they soaked up water and wetly clung to him, so swimming was difficult. The apron rapidly became heavier. The knife was still in his hand. Instead of untying the apron, he cut the straps and kicked away, then swam for the surface as the apron disappeared into the murky depths. The bulky gloves came off next, and he managed to hold onto the knife.
His head finally found air, and he gasped a deep breath. Then another. The angry dragon had already circled and gained altitude while he tried to catch his breath. He saw her spot him, and she folded her wings to her sides, her legs tucked close beneath her body. She fell into attack mode again, her fore-claws extended and ready to pluck him from the water as she flashed by like an eagle grabbing a salmon from the river near Dun Mare.
He gulped a last mouthful of air and dived deep under the water barely fast enough to avoid her slashing teeth and raking talons.
She climbed into the sky again, swinging wide and keeping her attention centered on him as she circled and prepared for another attack. She screeched and turned in a circle again, always keeping him in sight. Gareth managed a few more ragged breaths before she dived again. This time, he slipped quickly under water, kicked hard, and changed direction so she wouldn’t know his location. He saw her claws splash where he had been, and when she flew off a few seconds later, he surfaced again.
She attacked several more times, before finally rising and flying off in the direction of the mountains where her nest and remaining egg was located.
She’ll be back.
Gareth watched her, still feeling more fear than he knew was possible. He fought to slow his breathing, a combination of exertion and fear. She might return at any second so he had to be watchful. But if he didn’t swim easy and reach land he might drown. And if the gods willed it, he might survive the day, but that seemed unlikely.
The water tasted too salty to drink, a new experience, but he’d heard of oceans of salt water from the teachers and ignored it after discovering it unfit to drink. Arms splayed wide to tread water and rest, he spun a full circle, seeing land far off in only one direction.
The distance seemed impossible to swim. The weight of the egg didn’t pull him down too much, so he kept it. He decided to swim on his back, slowly, and conserve as much energy as possible. Besides, while on his back, he could keep a watch on the sky for the dragon returning. There would be no rest until he reached land, or drowned.
The bright sun hurt his eyes. He found he could close them and feel the sun on his upturned face, determining his direction without looking. A glance now and then ensured the dragon hadn’t returned. He took long, slow backstrokes, barely kicking. He moved his feet and legs just enough to remain on his back. Later, much later, he became aware of other noises. Slaps and creaks. He opened his eyes in fear, expecting to see the dragon had returned, finding a decrepit sailboat slowly approaching, a stone’s throw away.
“Ahoy, there. Can I be of assistance, or do you prefer swimming?”
Gareth grunted his response.
An old man slipped the filthy and patched sail, letting momentum carry the boat forward while he reached over the bow and lowered his arm. “Can ya take hold, son?”
Gareth grabbed the outstretched arm so hard he almost pulled the man over the side. Soon he had both hands gripping the man’s forearm. The man used his back and shoulders to lift. Gareth eased over the side of the boat as if he’d done it a hundred times. Then he lay on the bottom, breathing hard.
The old man moved about the boat, performing several tasks seemingly without effort. He pulled a rope taut and the sail moved higher up the mast. He adjusted the tiller until the patched sail filled with air in a snap of sound. The small boat surged ahead. He looked at Gareth like he might examine an odd fish in his net that he’d never encountered. “Yer can get yourself up and take a seat on that bench behind you, boy. Figure that dragon’s coming back after you?”
Gareth understood the words, but many were pronounced with different sounds or inflections. His groping hand found a bench seat near the middle of the boat. He managed to get upright and sit on it while struggling to adjust to the motions of his first ride in a boat. “Don’t know a lot about dragons. I guess she probably will be back.”
“Never saw one acting so fear-crazed like that, before. Especially around water. Always heard they don’t like saltwater, but you think she’ll return, huh?”
Gareth took a few more deep breaths. “Seems like a lot I hear about dragons these days is bunk.”
The old man barked a laugh. “Where were you headin’ to, son?”
“Down valley.”
“Never heard of it.”
“I mean, I’m from Odd’s farm in Dun Mare, and I’m going down the valley as soon as I find my friend, Faring.”
“Never heard of any of that, either. You might as well be talkin’ a different tongue.”
Gareth clutched the bag with the egg to his middle, taking a minute to think and appraise the old man. Dark brown skin and tangled hair turned mostly gray. His face above the beard was lined with deep dark wrinkles, and his clothing basic and dirty, especially on his thighs where he’d wiped his palms countless times. But there was a life’s worth of experience about him, and hidden in the wrinkles was a kindness few old men possess.
He acted much like Odd in many mannerisms, at least to this point. The old man kept a careful watch on him while performing numerous small tasks on the boat.
The shoreline and the mountains in the distance drew Gareth’s attention, the same ones he’d been flying over while dangling under the dragon at the end of the rope. “What’s beyond those mountains?”
“Never been there, son.”
I have. Gareth looked all around and only saw the single mountain range. If he was to ever get home, he needed to determine where that was as soon as possible. Half the battle of finding your way is knowing where you are when you start. The teachers had told him that. “Know their name?”
“We just call ‘um ‘the mountains’.”
Since there were no others to get confused with, the answer made sense, as little as he liked hearing it. He glanced in the direction of the sun and back at the mountains. “They lie to the west. What’s this water called?”