The Black Collar: Chapter Six

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Chapter Six

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Afternoon stretched into early evening by the time Alvaranox awoke. The sun had not yet set, but it hung low in the sky as though growing ever drowsier. Soon the weight of the coming night would settle upon it and push the sun below the horizon, bathing the world in darkness once more. For a little while the dragon just lay upon his bed of blankets, pillows and furs, staring at the wall. He tried to recall his dreams, but they eluded him, dancing before his eyes like fireflies just out of reach. Something about his youth, he thought.

Alvaranox licked his nose. His mouth felt sticky, his throat dry. His body still ached, and the pains in his belly and paw were getting sharper again. His other wounds hurt as well but the pain elsewhere was great enough to nearly overwhelm all others. The dragon was also gradually aware of a tight sort of sharp pressure in his abdomen. At first the normally familiar feeling confused him. He had not felt it for some time, and his mind was still shrouded in a drifting layer of herbal haze. When he finally collected his thoughts and recognized the discomfort, he smirked to himself. At least he could tell Kirra he finally had to take a piss. That ought to be a relief. Though, not as much of a relief as it was going to be for the dragon.

Now, if he could just get outside.

Alvaranox took a few deep breaths before setting himself to the arduous task of rising to his feet and limping to the door. Pain rolled through the dragon, and he bore it with grit teeth. He tucked his wounded foreleg against his body as he hobbled across the room. When he reached the door he instinctively reached for the oversized handle with his wounded paw. He quickly realized that wasn’t going to work. Someone was probably waiting outside but the dragon’s pride would not allow him to call for assistance. So Alvaranox settled down upon his haunches, leaning back against his tail long enough to use his left paw to open the door.

Evening sunlight bathed the world outside his home in fading shades of gold. Alvaranox squinted against the light, peering around. Armored guards in blue and gold surcoats kept a distant crowd at bay. Nearer his home, a few tables had been set up and topped with all sorts of medical supplies. Rolls of bandages, tubs of salve and baskets of herbs both fresh and dried. The gathered herbs tinted the air around his home with a bitter, pungent scent. Both Nylah and Kirra were standing around one of the tables, and when the door opened, they approached the dragon.

“You shouldn’t be up and walking around,” was the first thing Nylah said.

Alvaranox limped outside, glancing down at the increasingly gray-haired woman with a smirk that showed a few of his fangs. “Hello to you, too.”

Nylah reached out and gently rubbed his nose, smiling. “Hello. Now go back to bed. Whatever you need, we can get it for you.”

“Then you shall have to fetch me a large bucket to piss into,” the dragon said with a snort. “As that is currently my most pressing need.”

Nylah either missed the dragon’s sarcasm or chose to ignore it. She waved her hand to one of the attendants. “Fetch a bucket. A large bucket.”

“Oh, no,” the dragon growled, pulling his head away from Nylah. “We are not starting down that road. I shall go to my usual place and I shall hear no argument about it.”

“Very well,” Nylah said, then waved at Kirra. “Accompany him.”

Kirra blinked, her eyes widening a little. Then she gave a sheepish laugh and began to walk alongside the dragon. “Come along then, you old beast.”

Alvaranox took a few limping steps towards the area that served as the dragon’s latrine from time to time. Usually he’d take to his wings and fly somewhere near the lake, or far from town. But in the middle of the night or when flight was not an option, he ventured instead to a secluded grove of trees behind his home. A small spring and subsequent creek there served the purpose of keeping everything flushed and clean.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the dragon snapped at Kirra when it settled in that she was following him step for hobbling step.

“To accompany you, and observe,” Kirra said as matter-of-factly as she could.

“Oh no,” the dragon said with a snort. “I don’t know what manner of thrill you’re seeking, but you shan’t be watching me…”

“Don’t make it any more awkward than it is, Dragon,” Kirra said, putting her hand on his side. “We have to know how much blood is in it.”

“What do you mean how much?” Alvaranox tossed his head, flaring his spines. “Perhaps there is none.”

“That would be wonderful,” Kirra said, smiling. “We expect some, but, we also expect that it will decrease by the day. But, there’s really only one way to know for certain.”

The dragon breathed in slowly until his lungs were pressing against his ribs and his dark green scales had nearly stretched away from each other. “There is no way in the darkest of hells that I am letting you watch me urinate.” He gnashed his teeth, growling. “I…would have trouble.”

“You would?” Kirra seemed surprised.

“Yes!” The dragon hissed. Then he dropped his head down, giving a very uncharacteristic mewl. The dragon’s frilled green ears and spiny crests quickly grew quite hot with embarrassment. The crimson flush rushing to his ears and nostrils gave him an almost purple tint. Just when he’d thought he couldn’t be any more humiliated by this entire ordeal.

“I should think for a creature who’s never worn a scrap of clothing and grumpily tells people to “kiss his green stones” it wouldn’t be such an ordeal.” Kirra smirked at him, folding her arms beneath her breasts.

Alvaranox could not bring himself to meet her gaze. “This is different,” he muttered. Then he glanced back towards the healers tables set up in front of his home. He half expected to see Nylah laughing at him, but she was occupied with sorting herbs. “Did Nylah put you up to this?”

“If you’re suggesting Nylah thinks you could learn a little extra humility from this whole affair, then I refuse to confirm or deny that.” Kirra’s smirk grew a little wider. “But we really do need to see how much blood is in your…”

“Fine!” Alvaranox snapped his jaws. “But you will wait here. When I am done, you may go and…look.”

“If you’d rather, you can just tell me.” Kirra giggled to herself.

“Oh, that’s just hilarious, Kirra.”

The dragon did his best to stalk off in anger. The fact he was slowly hobbling along stole much of the ferocity from the gesture. In truth, that wasn’t really something he wanted to know. Bad enough knowing that somewhere in his body, he was still bleeding. To actually see the evidence would twist the dragon’s belly and give him something else to worry about. So Alvaranox made his way into the grove of trees, and tried to relax long enough to empty his bladder. It took the beast a little while, as he couldn’t help but think about how much blood might be involved. He closed his eyes, and when he was finally done, he kept them closed a few moments as he turned around and hobbled back out.

As he passed Kirra, he snorted at her. “Have fun, Inspector.”

By the time the dragon had limped all the way back to Nylah, Kirra had rejoined him. Much as he did not want to hear her report, he found himself unable to escape it. At least the results were mostly positive. While there was clear evidence of blood, there was not as much as the two woman had feared. They seemed pleased with that, even if the idea sat heavy and uncomfortable in the dragon’s belly like rotten fruit.

“Drink lots and lots of water, Alv,” Nylah told him, stroking his neck. “Your body needs it and it will help keep you flushed out. Are you hungry yet? You should eat a little food. Your body needs the strength.”

“I am…” The dragon scowled, twisting his ears back. Usually he was starving by this time of day, and he hadn’t eaten anything since his injury. “Not very hungry. Too much pain, I think.”

Nylah nodded in understanding. “Nonetheless, we’ll get you something to eat. Just enough to keep your strength up. We don’t want to completely fill your belly yet anyway. We’ll let your stomach take it easy for a while. Now.” Nylah pointed towards his door. “Back to bed. Kirra and I will get you cleaned up and re-bandaged shortly.”

Alvaranox did not like being bossed around like some bratty hatchling. Yet his trip to the creek-turned-latrine and back had sapped what little strength he had and so he could not bring himself to argue. He hobbled back into his home, pausing to glance at the carved images upon his doorway. Damn dragon still looked like he was one second away from a drunken roll down the hillside. Alvaranox licked his muzzle at the thought of drink.

“Bring me some wine, will you?”

“Alright,” Kirra said.

“No,” Nylah countermanded her, shaking her head at Kirra. “He can’t have wine right now. Not with some of the herbs we’re giving him.”

“Oh, of course,” Kirra said, flushing a little. “I’m sorry to get your hopes up, Alv.”

“Not as sorry as I am,” the dragon said. He limped his way into his home, then stuffed his head into the water trough. At least it was freshly refilled. His tongue was not as badly swollen as before, and it was much easier for him to quench his thirst now. When the dragon had drank deeply enough, he lifted his head to glare at the two woman. Beads of water clung to his pebbly scales for a few seconds before falling to the floor. “By tomorrow, I expect this trough to be filled with wine.”

“Expect to be disappointed then,” Nylah said, then swiftly pointed towards his sleeping things. “Bed. Now.”

“Slave driver,” muttered the dragon under his breath.

Alvaranox hobbled back into his room, and eased himself down upon the softest section of blankets and pillows he could find. He dropped his head to rest upon his favorite green scale-pattern pillow, staring at the bookshelves for a time. Two pointed objects lay upon one of the shelves that had not been there before. He lifted his head and stared a moment before he realized what they were.

Arrowheads.

The dragon was still staring at them when Nylah and Kirra came into the room. Nylah was hauling a bucket of water, and Kirra had an armful of bandages and cloth for scrubbing. The dragon waited till he had their attention then flicked his paw towards the shelves, indicating the steel arrowheads. Hints of rusty red blood still clung to them.

“Are those what I think they are?”

Nylah nodded, her voice soft. “Yes. We pulled one from your leg, and the other from your ribs. I know you used to like to take trophies from some of your battles, even if you rarely displayed them. I thought you might like to keep the arrowheads as a trophy.” She trailed off a moment, then looked up at the dragon. “If that’s too morbid, I’ll dispose of them right away.”

“No,” the dragon said, shaking his head. “Keep them. Thank you.” As he spoke, Nylah signaled for him to lower his head, and she dipped a cloth in the bucket of water, then gently began to clean the lingering dried blood from his muzzle. Alvaranox tilted his head back and forth, too tired to complain about being bathed in such a humiliating manner. “I should have liked to have gotten one of their helmets. And their cloaks. Perhaps when I can fly again, I shall go back there and see if there’s anything left of them.”

As Nylah washed the dragon’s face, Kirra began to do the same for his body. A lot of dried blood still coated the dragon, and soon the water in the wash bucket was tinted the color of old rust. They emptied it and refilled it several times as they cleaned the dragon’s scales. As she gently scrubbed him, Kirra asked, “Who did this to you anyway? Can you remember?”

“Unfortunately yes,” the dragon said softly. “I remember it quite well.”

“There’s a lot of questions being asked by the Council,” Kirra said, dipping her cloth in the fresh water. “They want to talk to you when you’ve healed. Nothing like this has ever happened before.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me, Kirra,” the dragon said with a snort.

“Their questions will be answered in time,” Nylah said. “Alvaranox’s health is first and foremost right now.”

“I do not think it is any direct threat to the town, if that is what the Council worries over,” the dragon said. He flicked his ears, twisting his body a little to give Kirra access to his lower belly. He winced as she bathed the area around his stitched-up wound, though she was as gentle as she could be. “They ambushed me, actually. It’s only a guess, but I think they were professional dragon slayers. Probably heard Asterryl has a dragon who intercepts bandits and things. They laid in wait in the ruins near that old bridge, as though setting a trap for travelers. A couple of archers were peppering me with arrows as soon as I arrived. Damn collar was buzzing the whole time trying to warn me. I gave chase to the archers, ended up in the ruins of the fort. Followed one of them around a corner…” Alvaranox gestured to his belly. “Another was hiding crouched down in some sunken alcove. As soon as I went by he had a clear shot at my belly.”

Both women winced. It certainly sounded well planned. Luckily for Alvaranox and for Asterryl the ambush had failed, though only just. Nylah began to tend the dragon’s wounded paw, washing away all the recently leaked blood and fluids that she could. “It does sound like something dragon slayers would do. If they knew they could draw you into a trap, I’m sure they wouldn’t hesitate.”

“As am I,” the dragon murmured. He growled a little. “Well-organized bastards. Nice armor, and helmets. Silvery looking in the moonlight. Three or four of them with matching black cloaks edged in red.”

Nylah clucked her tongue. “Perhaps a mercenary band then, looking to expand into dragon slaying for some quick coin.”

“Perhaps,” Alvaranox agreed. “Cold blooded, whoever they were. Got the feeling some of the archers were just hirelings they were happy to be rid of after they did their job.”

“What makes you think that?”

“The men with the armor were good. Calling out orders. Darting through the ruins to make it seem like there were more of them. Escaped my flames. All had the same gear. A couple of the others though, barely knew how to stay out of sight, or find a well protected location. Lacked the same armor and cloak.” The dragon flexed his wings against the floor. “I could be mistaken. It was just the way things seemed at the time. Things were moving awfully fast and I was a bit distracted by trying not to die.”

“It seems an awful lot of work to put into trying to kill one dragon,” Kirra mused, as much to herself as anyone else. “Putting that plan together, designing the ambush, finding a way to lure you out there in the first place. Besides, it’s not like you’re some rampaging monster in need of slaying. You’re our protector! I know you don’t see yourself as our friend, but that’s how Asterryl sees you. I don’t know why dragon slayers would…well, try to lure you out there. To choose you, I mean. Why not go kill some other dragon?”

Nylah gave Kirra a sudden, stern look but by then it was too late. Alvaranox cocked his head, glaring down at Kirra. His voice was sharper than the blade that had pieced his belly, yet laden with underlying sorrow. “Have you seen any other dragons lately, Kirra?”

Kirra stumbled over her words, nearly choking on her tongue as she realized just how far she’d shoved her own foot into her mouth. “I…No. I didn’t mean…Sorry, I thought…”

“Neither have I,” Alvaranox growled. “If there are active dragon slayers here, in the moors, and the wilds, I am the only target they have left. All my kin who once called this land home have long since fled.” He flared his spines, glaring down at Kirra as though she was the source of all his pain. The red-haired woman shrank before the dragon, wishing she could just hide herself under all his blankets. “Or they have already been slain. If the dragons I once knew continue to draw breath, then they are wise to have fled. After all, the only humans here who do not seem to want them dead would put them in a collar.”

Alvaranox lay his head down against his pillow, heaving a sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment. Nylah finished her washing and began to bind his paw with bandages. She spread fresh, cool salve against the stitched wound, and then slowly wrapped the layers of gauzy fabric around it. Kirra returned to bathing the dragon, though Alvaranox could feel her hands trembling as she scrubbed at the last of the dried blood. Now and then he heard her sniff a little bit. After a while, he cracked one eye open and caught her wiping a tear from her cheek.

Much to his dismay, Nylah caught him peeking. She gave the dragon a look just as stern as the one she’d shot Kirra earlier, and then waved in Kirra’s direction when the younger woman wasn’t looking. When Alvaranox tried to ignore the suggestion, Nylah wrapped the bandages a little tighter around his injured paw to make her point.

Alvaranox grit his teeth. “I am…sorry, Kirra,” the dragon said, hissing a little. “I did not mean to lay the blame upon your wings.”

Kirra managed a little smile, looking up at the dragon. “I haven’t got any wings, but thank you just the same.”

“It’s a saying,” the dragon murmured. “At least it was, when I had other dragons to talk to.”

“I’m sorry I brought that up, Alv,” Kirra said. She spread out some bandages in front of her, and began to carefully smear some of the herbal salve across them. “I just wasn’t thinking. I’m sure there are still other dragons out there, though. Somewhere. Maybe some day we can give you a chance to go and visit them, or get one of them to visit…” Nylah gave Kirra another sharp glance, and Kirra trailed off. Then she smiled a little, patting the dragon’s ribs. “Anyway, I’m sure you’ll see others again sometime.”

“It is a nice thought, anyway.” Alvaranox settled himself with a sigh.

Alvaranox tried to relax as Kirra began to apply the bandages to his belly. He was far too large for them to easily wrap them around his body, and so instead most of his bandages were applied to him with a layer of sticky resin created from a mixture of pine sap and a few other ingredients. It stuck particularly well to the texture of the dragon’s scales, and by lining the outer edges of the bandages with it they were able to keep them affixed to the dragon’s wounds.

By the time they had bandaged him up, some food had arrived. Though the dragon still wasn’t feeling particularly hungry, the delightful aromas of smoked mutton that permeated the room when his meal was delivered quickly began to change that. His sore belly rumbled a little as Nylah fetched a large knife and began to slice up the mutton haunch. Much as Alvaranox still loved the thrill of hunting his own prey and the satisfaction of feeding upon still-bleeding flesh, years bound to the protection of a human town had a way of endearing the flavors of cooked food to him.

“I know one mutton haunch is hardly a filling meal for you,” Nylah said, setting the knife down. She hoisted up the tray and walked to the dragon’s head. “But it will give your body something to draw strength from without overtaxing your belly right away. I’ve cut it in chunks that are fairly small by your standards, for the same reason. Do you want me to feed it to you?”

Alvaranox snorted. “I think I can manage that.”

Nylah nodded, setting the tray down. “Alright. You eat, and I’ll mix up your next batch of herbs in some water to take before you go back to sleep.”

Alvaranox scowled and thumped his spined tail against the bedding in irritation. He did not like having to ingest all those herbs, though he did not complain. If he complained Nylah would probably double his dose just to knock him out and get him to shut up for a while. The thought made him smirk. That’d be just like the old lady.

While Nylah ground some herbs and mixed them with water, Kirra settled next to the dragon to spend a few moments listening to his heart beat and the sound of his breathing. He plucked a few slices of mutton from the wooden tray with his left paw, and dropped them into his muzzle. When Kirra lifted her head away from his chest, the dragon offered her a slice of mutton. At first she hesitated, but soon she gratefully accepted it, devouring it hungrily in a few large bites.

“If you’re anything like Nylah you forget to feed yourself until you’ve taken care of me,” the dragon said softly. Nylah glanced over at them, quirking her brow, and the dragon gestured at her with a slab of meat. “You know its true. Come eat this.”

Nylah waved him off, and Alvaranox handed the meat to Kirra instead. She took her time with it, and made sure to thank the dragon as well.

Alvaranox ate a few more pieces, grinning to himself. “When I was younger, perhaps a few years after Nylah had first taken over being my Handler, I took ill with a terrible fever, and a cough that left my lungs burning.”

“Oh, not this story,” Nylah muttered as she walked over, hauling the dragon’s water pail. “Don’t listen to him, Kirra, he’s an excellent liar with a vivid imagination.”

Kirra giggled and Alvaranox just grinned at Nylah. “I did not trust her, and yet she would not leave my side for a week, trying all she could to help break my fever. Dragons do not often get ill, but when we do it can be quite extreme. Though she poured over my previous Handler’s notes, she had no idea what manner of sickness I might have developed, nor even if I could transmit it to her. Her attendants were terrified to get to close to me, afraid they might catch it, that it might claim them. Nylah, though. Nylah stayed with me night and day doing everything she could. Everything except taking care of herself, that is.”

“I took perfectly fine care of myself,” Nylah said, making a show of yanking a piece of mutton out of the dragon’s paw as though he hadn’t just offered it to her. “As I am doing so now.”

“You did not eat for four days, and you scarcely drank any water,” the dragon said, grinning. “By the time I was getting better you’d damn near starved yourself into an illness even worse than mine.” The dragon finished off the last of his meat. He grinned at Nylah even while his words were meant for Kirra. He flicked his ears. “Took her three days to get her strength back, and even then she had to lean against me for support.”

“It only took one day,” Nylah muttered. She nudged the bucket. “Drink your herbs and go to sleep.”

“Don’t look now,” Alvaranox said, a smirk crawling across the edges of his snout. “But the old lady’s getting cranky.”

“Don’t call me that,” Nylah said, folding her arms. “And don’t forget I owe you a very stern talking to about my poor roses.”

Alvaranox stuck his muzzle into the bucket, his voice reverberating out of it in between the sounds of lapping. “Isn’t that just like an old lady. Always yelling at someone to stay out of her garden.”

“I’m yelling at you for ruining my garden,” Nylah said, trying not to laugh. “There is an important difference.”

Alvaranox lifted his head, licking beads of water and shredded herbs from his muzzle. “There’s something new in here.”

“Yes,” Nylah said. “There’s some Bluestrand Vine. It will help you get your strength back as well as keep your fevers down. You’ll be taking that for a while, I think.”

The dragon cocked his head, flicking his ears against his ridged black horns. “Bluestrand? Isn’t that the weed that left me flying loops above the city all day long when I was younger?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Among other things?”

“Yes,” Nylah said with a little laugh. “Like I said, it will help give you your strength back. As weak as you are right now, I think it should just provide you a nice energy boost. I don’t think you’ll be feeling the need to fly any loops again this time, but we shall deal with any other effects as they arise. Now, the other herbs should take hold soon, and you need your rest. So we’ll let you get some sleep.” She rose to her feet, and held her hand out to the younger woman. “Come along, Kirra.”

“Very well,” the dragon said, curling up just a little against his bedding. “Pull those blankets over me, will you? I think I had a bit of a chill from the fever last night.”

Kirra quickly moved to do just that. She spread a few different blankets out over the dragon. She tossed a sky blue one across his hind end, spreading it over his haunches. Then she worked a blanket with purple and silver checkerboard markings across his body and his wings, before finally settling a smaller golden hued quilt across his shoulders and the bottom of his neck.

“How’s that?”

“Perfect,” the dragon murmured. Already he was feeling drowsy.

Kirra smiled and patted his neck before heading to the door. “Good night, Alv.”

“Good night, Kirra.”

Nylah did the same, patting the dragon before she followed Kirra out of his sleeping chamber. “Good night.”

Alvaranox smirked at her a moment before closing his eyes. “G’night, Old Lady.”