Dragon Blood

There weren't always dragons in the Valley.

Or maybe they had always been there but hidden from ordinary eyes. But I saw a dragon die in the valley.

This happened ten years ago—I was eight, and my parents and I were in the Forbidden Forest in Kaliki.

In the middle of the forest was a mountain with the steepest sides I’d ever seen. It looked like a drinking cup turned upside down and rose as high as the eye could see. Its top, never seen, obscured by a layer of clouds.

The smell of rotten eggs and smoke hung in the air. Something or things had fallen from the sky, charring the vegetation and ground. Men and women, ‘prospectors’ with different hairstyles and outfits—their clothing and dark skin streaked with dirt, scurried about, oblivious to the smell. They moved around like army ants, searching for sustenance. I too hurried, mimicking the people. I scrunched up my face to look as focused as they did.

“Ibari! Don’t go too far,” my father said. His voice was stern, his demeanor

calm. He swiped a thumb across the beads of sweat on his forehead—flicked them to the side. He did the same across his bald scalp.

He wiped his dirty calloused hands on his sweat-soaked tunic. The sweat already formed a wet visible mark on his trousers. Would the sweat get to his leather boots?

Sunrise was barely an hour ago, but it was hot. By the time our shadows became the shortest, it would be an oven in this valley. Maybe that was why it was called the Forbidden Forest.

I stood still. Was that a rumble I felt under my feet? I looked around. Nobody else seemed to have noticed. Most were digging into the soil. Only my father seemed to focus on the surface. He examined every rock he came across—shifted foliage, searching.

I met my mother’s eyes—she shrugged. Then, I looked at my father. He was engaged in the search.

Like the other women, my mother was dressed in a tunic. Her long skirt reached her ankles, almost covering her boot. She pushed her long black braids back and secured them with a piece of thin rope made from cowhide.

I had braids, but not as long as hers…yet. I was dressed similarly but opted for trousers. ‘Maybe when you become a woman, you’d prefer skirts and dresses,’ she’d said with a smile. I didn’t point out that she was wrong. As a girl, wearing trousers gave me the freedom to wade through bushes without my legs getting sliced by grass blades. And climb trees, not worrying about decency.

“Woman, don’t give me that look,” my father said, standing tall, his hands on his hips. He grinned at my mother. “Woman of little faith.”

My mother snorted. “I won’t be here if I didn’t have faith in you.” she pointed at him. “But do you have faith in yourself?”

“Of course! My process is solid,” my father said. “From my calculations, the rocks from the sky must have landed here. These people confirmed it too by being here. The Forbidden Forest, where the ground shakes and strange things happen. Where else would sky rocks land?”

I leaned forward, hoping to learn more.

“They saw showers of fire coming down at night in this direction. We find some sky rocks, sell them, and have enough coins to move away. Buy a farm and settle on another continent. Maybe, find a dragon egg and build an army to push the North people back.”

I agreed with him. It started three years ago. A hoard of horse riders swept from the North, conquering villages, killing everything on their part. No army could stop them unless one had dragons. But alas, they died off a thousand years ago.

Myth has it that dragons fall from the sky. None had in the last thousand years. But people still look when rocks fall from the sky, hoping a dragon egg will be among the rocks. That’s why the sky stones command a high number of coins.

With a dragon, the ferocious army from the North would be wiped out, and peace returned to Kaliki.

Mother raised an eyebrow. “It won’t be like the last time when you miscalculated?”

“Well, you can see there’re more people here. We all couldn’t have miscalculated. Once we…”

I stopped paying attention and refocused on the people around us. Everyone was busy. Maybe I should explore the cave I found yesterday hidden behind a waterfall. My parents won’t notice my absence. They were so absorbed in their conversation. I was about to sneak away when I saw him.

He was dressed in a black kaftan, tall and solid. He had no pick or shovel. Instead, he had a sheathed sword by his side. In his left hand was a bow with an arrow knocked in. I knew his type. They came to take by force from people who had worked hard for theirs.

He walked by a woman digging and brushed against her. Her hands flew to her throat, eyes wide. Blood flowed down her hands—turned her tunic red. She fell into the hole she was digging.

What the? I couldn’t move.

In the newcomer’s hand was a long dagger. He wiped it on the woman’s back. He walked casually to a man wearing a straw hat, on his knees scraping the soil with his hoe. He put the knife under the man’s chin.

“Hey!” said the surprised man wearing a straw hat.

The newcomer pulled his hand to the right.

Like the woman, the man’s hand flew to his throat. His hat fell off his head. A sucking and gurgling sound rushed out of him. He lunged forward as if in prayer to the gods. His body twitched, then stilled.

The sound of scraping and conversations seized.

The screaming started.

I stood there, eyes wide, my feet rooted to the spot. I couldn’t breathe.

A few brave men rushed toward the fallen victims to help. Two prospectors went after the man with the dagger.

I heard two twangs—the release of arrows and two screams. They’d found their marks.

“Take Ibari to the tent,” my father said to my mother, his voice a whisper. “Ibari, go to your mother.”

I couldn’t move. My heart hammered in my chest.

Two men emerged from the surrounding bushes, dressed in black, their bows ready, glancing around, waiting for any sudden movements.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. My mother had walked up to me. She wouldn’t drag me to the tent. That would draw attention to us.

“They call me Wadal,” said the man, looking around. His bow on the ready. His voice sounded like gravel rubbed together, with a thick Northern accent. “I saw the showers coming down. And, and I have heard the myths too.”

Wadal strolled around as if he owned the Forbidden Forest. “So, that’s why I’m here. If my associates and I took possession of any sky rock or mythical eggs, we would be in control of Kaliki.”

My father switched his machete from his right hand to his dominant left. What was he trying to do?

“So, you’ll make us a present of whatever you have found so far,” said Wadal. “And continue working until all those sky rocks are recovered, and maybe one will have the egg.”

A man bolted. “No, No!” He screamed and ran for a cluster of trees.

Wadal whirled, adjusted his stance, and shot him. The arrow entered the base of the man’s skull, propelling him forward. He landed on the ground, not moving.

I tried to close my mouth, but it wouldn’t stop shattering.

My mother squeezed my shoulder and whispered. “Breathe, in and out. In and out.”

I shook from my head to my toes. I felt pure terror. My legs could barely hold me. The image of the arrow entering the man’s neck was embossed in my mind.

Wadal moved over to the man he’d just brought down. Two of his men ran to the felled man and searched his pockets.

Father turned and said, “Go, go.” It was an urgent whisper.

Everybody scattered. My mother pulled me back, and we entered the tent. But just before father could run, Wadal and his people regained their composure.

“Stop!” Wadal said.

The sound of flying arrows filled the air, followed by screams. My mother and I hid behind a sack of food. We could hear but not dare look to see what was going on.

“I’ve changed my plans,” said Wadal. “I don’t know why he ran, and he had nothing in his pocket. Bring out what you have and bring it here, or we will start killing people.”

I gasped.

Nobody moved because nobody had found anything.

Just like he’d promised, they shot their arrows. Screams erupted again. I tried to move, to help my father, but my mother held me tight.

I felt her hot breath against my ear. “Your father is very resourceful. Going out there will either get him or us killed.

Someone screamed. I couldn’t help myself. I tried to move, to do something, but my mother had me in a tight grip.

We jumped when an arrow pierced through the tent’s fabric and entered. We moved to another corner of the tent, and this time, we could see the outside. I saw my father. He was hiding behind a rock. The screaming stopped. Had they killed everyone?

I watched in horror as my father stood up slowly. Both hands raised, his palms facing forward.

“Wadal!”

There was silence, then the crunching of feet on gravel. Wadal came into view.I wish I had a bow and arrow and knew how to use it. But he didn’t attack my father nor cut him into ribbons.Instead, he spoke to him.

“Do you have a death wish?” Wadal said.

My father shook his head. “But we all are here looking for the same things for different reasons. Now you are killing the same people who will search and dig...Unless you want to do it yourself?”

Wadal stared at my father for what seemed like forever. My mother’s grip on me was like steel tongs. My heart thudded in my chest like the hooves of migrating wildebeest.

Wadal nodded. “I think you already have found the rocks. I saw your little girl and woman. Maybe if I threaten to kill you—”

He pointed his arrow at my father. “They’ll hand over everything.”

The sound of arrows flying broke the tense silence. Wadal swung around just in time to see his men fall with arrows sticking out of their necks.

About twenty men, armed with bows on the ready, emerged from the bush. They were all dressed in black, like Wadal and his colleagues.

Wadal dropped his weapons and raised both hands. His eyes were wild. The look in them reminded me of a goat I’d once seen surrounded by wild dogs.

A magnificent black horse emerged from the bushes. Its rider, dressed in a white tunic with gold embroidery, rode towards Wadal. My mouth dropped open when Wadal fell to the floor, prostrating. He must be a powerful man.

“Mercy, oh Groka, Mercy!” Wadal said. His voice had lost its luster. He sounded whiny. “I—I rode forward to pave the way.”

I drew in a sharp breath. That man on the horse was the warlord sweeping in from the North, killing everything in his path?

“Did you find it?” Groka said. His voice was deep and rumbling. “Consider yourself a dead man if you do not produce the dragon egg.”

“No…Yes!” Wadal blurted. He pointed at my father.

My heart dropped into my stomach. My mother gasped.

“That man knows about the dragon egg. He was just about to tell me where—”

“That is not true, “my father said. “He lies.”

Groka’s eyebrows shot up. He probably wasn’t used to people talking back to him. He dismounted, walked past Wadal, who had gotten to one knee, and stopped in front of my father. He was taller than my father, probably middle-aged, with some gray in his hair. But solidly built.

“You are not afraid of me?”

My father did not answer.

Groka paused—opened his palms. “What is the truth?”

My father’s chest rose as he inhaled, then exhaled. “The truth is we have all heard the rumors. But, for a thousand years, there haven’t been any dragons in Kaliki. Anyone looking at the sky would have seen the balls falling. We know that the rocks are precious and will sell for plenty of coins.” He paused. “We’ve also heard that sometimes dragon eggs fall from the sky.”

Groka pointed. “The ground is scorched. Something landed here.”

“I agree with you, but I can only speak for myself. I haven’t found any rock or egg. We were still searching when he came.” Father pointed at Wadal. “Attacked us and killed many that were searching. Killing innocent people—murdering poor innocent villagers is senseless.”

What is my father doing? He should not make the man angry.

“If I find a dragon egg, I will give it to you, as long as you promise to stop the killings of the innocent.”

Groka looked around at his men. He seemed to be in deep thought. Then he said, “You speak your mind despite the odds you face. Many men have died by my hands for just looking at me.”

Wadal got to his feet. “He’s not afraid because he has the dragon egg. He will use it himself. With a dragon in his arsenal, men will flock to him. He will build an army to reverse all that you have achieved.”

A muscle in Groka’s temple twitched. His face hardened. “Where is the dragon egg?”

“He won’t tell you,” Wadal said. “His wife and daughter are inside the tent. Great Groka, make them bleed—scream for mercy. Then, he will talk.”

Groka’ whirled. His face a mask of fury. “Silence! Let the man speak for himself.” He turned his back on Wadal and refocused on my father.

I watched in horror as Wadal slipped his hand under his tunic. A dagger appeared in his hand. He took a step toward Groka.

It happened so fast. My father threw his machete.

It sailed past Groka and lodged into Wadal chest, his hand still clutching the knife hung in the air. Then he fell back.

Groka stood still. A confused look on his face.

I was breathing like I’d run from one village to another. My father just saved Groka’s life. Even his men had been slow in reacting. Nobody expected Wadal would try to assassinate Groka.

My mother’s grip on me loosened. What does that mean? Are we now safe? At least Groka owes my father.

Groka looked at Wadal for a long time, then spat at him. He faced my father, and the initial confusion on his face shifted to anger, then rage.

“Groka is never indebted to anyone.” He pulled out a knife and plunged it into my father’s chest in one smooth move.

My legs wobbled, and I slid to the floor. Why? Even his men gasped. Within seconds, Groka had turned into a different person, the brute he was. He barked out a name, and a soldier broke ranks and stood before him.

“Bring his family. Start with the child. Torture her until her mother tells us what we want to know.”

The soldier advanced.

My mother moved. Wide-eyed, her braids looking like snakes sprouting from her head, she dragged me to the back of the tent. Slit the fabric with an eating knife and pushed me through the hole.

“Run, Ibari, Run!”

I hesitated. “Mother…”

Her whole body shaking, she put her hand through the hole and shoved me hard. “My daughter, whatever you hear, don’t stop. Don’t turn back. Keep on running!” It was a loud whisper.

Tears ran down my cheeks. “Come with me mother.”

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Run!”

I ran.

I heard them come into the tent as I took off into the bush.

Grass blades slashed my skin. Shrubs and low-hanging tree branches grabbed at my clothing like invisible hands trying to slow me down. I shrugged them off.

Are the soldiers behind me? I couldn’t stop to find out. I continued running until I heard a scream that pierced even the pounding in my ears.

I stopped as if someone had called out my name.

My mouth hung open like a dog in the midday heat as I sucked in air. Sweat poured down my face.

The scream came again. Are they torturing her? “Mother.”

I turned around to go help her. Her last words came back to me. ‘My daughter, whatever you hear, don’t stop. Don’t turn back. Keep on running.’ I hesitated.

In that brief second, the sound of crashing through the foliage got closer. I dropped to the ground, expecting a hand to grab me at any time. They rushed past me.

Sweat stung my eyes. I blinked repeatedly. This time, my father’s words from a long time ago pierced through the fog in my mind.

A man that cannot swim should not try to save a drowning man. It will only result in two casualties.

I heeded their advice. I remembered the cave I’d planned to explore. I would hide out in the cave. I stood up and looked for the mountain to establish my location. Now I knew which way to go. I crouched low and took off for the waterfall.

I ran as fast as I could. The soldiers would soon retrace my steps. It was only a matter of time.

It seemed like a long time of constant moving, but eventually, I heard the waterfall. I cocked my head and listened. Nobody was following me. I came out of the bush and walked closer. I’d wait them out in the cave. Hopefully, Gorka would find some rocks and leave.

I was out of breath. I bent over, both hands resting on my knees, panting.

A vast shadow appeared on the ground. The sky darkened, and piercing pain exploded in my shoulders. I was lifted off the ground, and I was in the air. Claws dug into my shoulder and held me tight. My tunic was soaked with my blood. I tried to breathe, but the smell of death and decay was suffocating.

We rose higher. My legs dangled below me. I looked up and saw feathers, and I knew I was in the clutches of some giant bird. Where did it come from?

Far below, things looked small. We drifted through smoke that had no odor. Then it cleared, and we went higher.

The bird started to come down. My stomach rushed into my throat. I looked down and saw three pink holes, opening and closing. Then I saw feathers. It was a bird’s nest. Those were giant baby birds. Their mother would rip me apart and feed me to them.

Which was better? Death at Groka’s hands or being eaten alive.

A roar and extreme heat pulled me out of my thoughts.

Heat danced over my skin like I was being spit-roasted like a pig. The claws released me, and I went hurtling down.

I landed on the nest of sticks, animal horns, and dried-out white bones. I looked up to see the big bird engulfed in flames. Next to it was a huge snake—dark brown with bat-like wings on its sides. A forked tongue protruded from its open mouth, which was emitting smoke. Scales covered its long body, which ended in a barbed tail.

I blinked. A dragon?

A dragon!

So, father was right.

Did the dragon save me? Why?

As the big burning bird fell, arrows from below hit the dragon from every direction. It bellowed in pain and began a loop and dive as it dropped from the sky.

By the gods. What was going on?

I jerked as the nest shifted.

One of the baby birds was after me. Its neck stretched out toward me. I scuttled to the side of the nest and looked for an escape route. The mountainside was a sheer straight wall.

The nest rocked side again. The other two birds had also smelled me and stretched their necks towards me. It was only a matter of time before they got me.

I looked over the edge again. A canopy of trees lined the bottom of the mountain. A few trees protruded from the wall. I thought fast.It was a gamble. But, if the trees broke my fall, I might survive. Nobody survives being eaten.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the three bird’s lung for me all at once. I drew back. The nest rocked violently, and this time did not return to the center.

The nest tilted and toppled over the edge of the mountain.

I smashed face-first into the first set of trees and grabbed at a branch. It held, and my body smashed into the mountain wall, knocking the breath out of me.

I held on tight. I heard a crack, and the branch broke off. I was airborne once more. This time, there was nothing to grab. I looked down, and the trees seemed to be rushing to meet me.

I hit the trees and tried to hold onto something but came up empty. Every part of my body must have banged against the trees as I came down. Eventually, I hit the ground, and everything faded to darkness.

I don’t know how long I was out, but an odor, like the remnants of an overnight wood fire, wafted up to my nose. I opened my eyes—leaves with sunlight breaking through now and then waved at me. Then I remembered where I was.

The smell came from my right.

I turned my head, and I scuttled back. The massive head of a dragon lay beside me. The dragon was covered with arrows. It looked like a giant porcupine.

I heard voices approaching.

“I think it fell over there,” a voice said.

Gorka’s men. I sat up. My body protested in pain. They would finish off the dragon and me too. I looked around for a place to hide it. Even if there was, there was no way I could move it.

The dragon’s eyes fluttered open. It fixed on me, then dashed to the left. It took a few tries before I understood and looked to my left. Close to the dragon was a hole. The hole was quickly turning into a red pool—Dragon blood. Its eyes dashed again to the hole.

“Y—You want me to hide in there?”

In reply, the light left the dragon’s eyes.

I had seen enough dead animals. The dragon was no more.

“I can see the beast!” a voice said.

They were almost upon me. A large branch covered with leaves lay on the ground. It must have broken off when I fell. I picked it up and jumped into the red pool.

The hole was large enough to hold me and not spill the displaced blood.

The warm liquid wrapped around me like a blanket soaked in warm water on a cold harmattan night. I felt born anew. I held onto the branch, covering the hole, expecting it to be yanked out of my hand.

It took a while before the soldiers finished with the dragon. I must have fallen asleep because it was evening when I opened my eyes again. The sun had set. The soldiers had cleared out—the remains of the dragon—gone.

I pulled myself out of the hole and realized the pool was now dry. Where had all that blood gone? I walked around cautiously and came across some feathers and beaks. Groka’s men must have gotten to them too.

I found an area where the ground had been disturbed. A stone arrangement at one end suggested it was a mass grave. My parents, other prospectors, and perhaps Groka’s fallen soldiers all were buried in the same place. Fresh tears streamed down my face. I’d run like a coward. But if I hadn’t, I would have been amongst those buried underneath. A sense of extreme loss enveloped me. I was all alone in the world.

I started walking away from the Forbidden Forest. A few days later, a group of travelers found me exhausted, lying in the dirt, vultures circling overhead. They took pity on me and took me with them.

In the past ten years since he added the fire-spitting dragon to his army, Groka’s dominance over the continent was complete. He could only have acquired the dragon from the Forbidden Forest.

He could rule for a long time unless his dragon were stopped. Nothing harmed his dragon. It had been shot with arrows, stabbed, and set on fire but always survived.

The secret to killing the dragon was in the Forbidden Forest. I later learned that all the soldiers who came with Groka to the Forbidden Forest were murdered. The secrets of what they saw, they took to their graves. I am the only living person that saw a dragon bleed to death.

Dragons are formidable, but they have a weakness. The only physical reminders of that day are the faded scars on my shoulders made by the giant bird.

Somewhere in my mind lay a clue on how a dragon could be killed. Maybe something about the valley—the vulture, the presence of prospectors, the soldiers, my parents, or the mother dragon herself.

There weren't always dragons in the Valley, and maybe never will be again. But I saw a dragon die in the valley…

And I will see another die to get to Groka.