DRAKN SAGA
By DragonWriter17
 

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer/Spoilers/Pairings: Not applicable.  This is an all-original piece.

My Website: http://www.dragonwriter17.net/

Feedback: Yes, but only if it’s of the non-flamey variety: DragonWriter17@aol.com

Distribution: Only here.  (If you are interested in posting this on your site, please contact me first for permission.)

Author’s Notes: This is a novel in progress and may change significantly over time.

Number of Chapters: Unknown at this time.

Complete: No

Summary: Risking everything to fulfill a promise to her dying father, Tegan leaves her mountain cabin deep in Hyperion territory and travels to Sacrinsia, the isolated island that is home to the Drakns, an all-female race that is on the brink of war once again, with the Hyperions.  Once on the island, Tegan narrowly escapes execution as a spy and then faces a life-changing decision. 
 


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CH. 01       CH. 02

 

CHAPTER 01

Tegan had been paddling for hours.  Her hands were already blistered, and her arms and shoulders burned with fatigue.  This is harder than I thought it’d be, she thought to herself.  She stopped and rested for a moment, breathing hard from the exertion of rowing.  She looked up at the cloudy, moonless sky and sighed.  Then she quickly brought her eyes back down and located the lights of the Drakn island once again.  She didn’t want to lose her bearings. 

She stretched her long legs and popped her back.  Her leather necklace hung loosely down her chest.  She touched the tiny tubular pouch and thought of her father.  Then she reached into the bottom of her skiff and touched her pack and felt the small package within.  She knew it was still there, but she felt compelled to verify its safe location.  It was, after all, the very reason she was here, rowing her way across the channel in the dark of night, hoping she could make it to shore without being sunk by a Drakn patrol boat. 

Tegan shook her head at the absurdity of it all.  I can’t believe I’m doing this, she thought.  I must be out of my mind!  She ran her hand over her shortly-cropped blonde hair.  She missed her long hair.  She had cut it before she had begun her journey from her home near Faber to the port city of Avon, having decided that it would be safer for her if she disguised herself as a man.  Tegan knew she could take care of herself; her father had made sure of that.  But, traveling alone across the continent, she would be less of a target if she were in male disguise.  Tegan shook her head again and chuckled softly, then sobered when she recalled the events that had led her to this place.

 

It had been two months ago that Tegan’s father, Temund, had taken ill suddenly.  On his death bed, he had called his daughter to him.

                “Tegan, it won’t be long now before I’m gone.” 

                “Don’t be silly, Father!” Tegan objected.  “You’ll be fine, I know it.”

                “No, Tegan, we can’t deny it.  I’m near the end now.  I need to tell you something, to ask you to do something for me.”

                “Anything, Father, you know that.”

                “When I’m gone, I need you to return something, something I took a long time ago and never should have kept.”

                “Return something?” Tegan asked, confused.  “Return what?  To who?”

                “Tegan, go to my chest. In the very bottom you’ll find a leather pouch.  Bring it to me.”  She did as he said and returned with the pouch.  “Look inside,” he said. 

                Tegan did and found a small but thick leather book filled with pages.  The cover was made of thick black leather with a beaded edge.  It had a small silver moon embedded in the front cover.  When she opened the book, it creaked slightly.  The pages were somewhat yellowed, but not yet dried and cracked.  The script looked like a jumbled scrawl, the characters incomprehensible to her.

“What is this?” she asked.

                “It’s something very precious that belongs to the Drakn people.  You must deliver it to them for me.”

                “The Drakns? The women on the Island?  The ones who killed Old Corgen?” she asked incredulously.

                “Yes, the Drakns.  It will be dangerous.  War is inevitable there.  Corgen’s son has vowed revenge for his father’s death.  He’s already made up the ground that was lost when his father was killed and the Hyperion army was routed.  But you must do this for me, as soon as possible after I’m gone.  I should have done it years ago myself, but I didn’t.  Promise me you’ll do this.”

                “Yes, of course I will,” she said.  Tegan wasn’t thinking about the danger; she was too curious about the book itself.  “How did you get this?”

                “It sort of fell into my hands after the war.  But that’s not important.  What’s important is that you take it to the Drakn people, personally.  Promise me!  Swear it on your mother’s grave and mine!”

                Her father’s sudden insistence disturbed Tegan, but she answered solemnly, “I swear that I will personally take this book to the Drakn people.”

                “Thank you.  Now I can rest,” he said as he settled back down into his bed.  He grabbed Tegan’s hand and squeezed it.  “I love you, Tegan.  I always have.  Don’t ever doubt that.  Remember your promise.”

                “I love you, too, Father.  I won’t forget.” 

 

Tegan patted her pack again, thinking of how she had poured over the book, trying to figure out what it was and why it was so important.  She had studied its pages in wonder, thinking that if she just looked at it long enough she could learn its secrets, the words would somehow jump off the page and into her brain.  She couldn’t understand then, and still couldn’t understand now, why her father had wanted her to make such a dangerous journey to return this book to the Drakns.  Tegan imagined that it was an important historical document or perhaps a book of magic.  Tegan liked that possibility best.  Every time she looked at the book, she wondered if the pages outlined powerful spells and incantations.

Time to stop daydreaming and get back to work, Tegan thought as she picked up the oars once again.  Just as Tegan had gotten into a steady rhythm again, she heard faint sounds to her left.  She stopped rowing immediately and listened.  “A Drakn patrol boat,” she whispered before holding her breath and ducking down into her skiff.  She could hear the Drakns get closer and closer.  Tegan fought the panic in her gut.  Don’t look up.  No matter what, just stay put, she reminded herself.  After what seemed like an eternity, Tegan heard the patrol boat move off to her right.  When she was sure it was safe, she let out her breath and sat up.  She waited a few moments more, then set out again for the island.

As she neared the Island, Tegan changed course so that she would land north of the lights she had been following.  When her skiff hit the sand, she jumped out, put on her pack, and began to drag the skiff up the beach as quickly as she could.  She hid the skiff in some underbrush, hoping she could find it again if she had to.  Then she moved up from the beach into the forested edges and found a place to hide.  She sat quietly, trying to get her heart to calm down.  Tegan knew that the Drakns allowed no outsiders in their territory.  Anyone caught in their waters or on their shores was killed.  I hope I have the chance to explain myself before they try to kill me, Tegan thought ruefully.  Tegan took a deep breath, then settled in to wait for the sun to come up.  She hoped that she would stand a better chance in daylight.

                After the sun had come fully up, Tegan wolfed down a few bites of food, then headed south toward the city whose lights she had followed the night before.  She moved slowly and quietly, staying within the safety of the trees.  Suddenly, Tegan heard horses on the beach.  She ducked down quickly but watched from her hiding place.  One Drakn border guard was apparently meeting up with two others.  The pair talked loudly to the single one and pointed back the way Tegan had come.  Tegan figured that they must have found her skiff.  The guards continued talking.  Tegan’s stomach was churning with uneasiness.  Questions raced through her mind: What should I do?  Should I go down there now?  How should I greet them? 

                Right when Tegan had decided to come from hiding and start toward the beach, a Drakn guard appeared before her out of nowhere and pointed her spear in Tegan’s direction.  The guard was young, maybe a couple of years older than Tegan’s eighteen years.  She was tall and lanky, almost gangly, but clearly strong and fit.  Her hair was light brown, long and straight, pulled back tight into a single braid with a red scarf.  She wore a short rusty-colored tunic with brown leggings and boots.  A  shaped like a lightning bolt started at the right side of her forehead, skipped her right eye, and continued down her right cheek.  The guard glared then moved cautiously in Tegan’s direction. 

Tegan dropped her pack, held out her hands to show that she had no weapon, and said in Hyperion, “I come in peace.  May we speak?”  The guard looked at Tegan a moment and then let out a piercing cry and rushed towards her.  Tegan instantly regretted leaving her weapons in her pack.

                Did she not understand me?  I thought the Drakns could speak Hyperion, Tegan thought to herself as she ran behind a V-shaped tree to place an obstacle between herself and her attacker.  The guard reached the tree and circled around it, jabbing first to one side and then to the other. 

                Tegan dodged and then tried again to communicate, “I mean you no harm.  Do you understand me?” 

                The guard’s response was a vicious thrust through the V of the tree, which nicked Tegan on the cheek as she ducked.  Before the guard could draw back her spear, though, Tegan grabbed it and yanked her forward into the trunk of the tree.  The guard was stunned by the blow and fell back, releasing her spear, which Tegan then reversed and held firmly toward the guard to defend herself as she moved from behind the tree to confront the guard.

                It was at that point that the other guards appeared, the ones Tegan had seen earlier; they had apparently been drawn by the young one’s earlier shrieking.  Two of them took up positions on Tegan’s left and right and pointed armed crossbows at her.  The one on the left was dressed similarly to the young guard, although in dark green, complete with a green bandana wound loosely around her neck.  She was average in height, and although obviously physically fit, she had a rounder, softer shape.  She had wavy blonde hair that she wore loosely at shoulder-length.  The guard on the right wore pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and a vest, all in bland earth tones trimmed in black.  On each hip was a sheath containing a dagger.  She wore a green bandana like her counterpart.  She was Tegan’s size, tall with a medium build.  Her hair was black and straight, and she wore it in a ponytail in the back; beside each temple was a thin braid, into which she had woven small feathers. 

Tegan’s observation of the two guards ended abruptly when the third guard approached.  She walked between the women holding the crossbows and stopped.  Tegan’s jaw dropped when she saw her.  The woman was huge.  She was at least half a foot taller than Tegan.  She simply stood there with her hands on her hips and stared down at Tegan.  Her brown hair was coarse and wavy and framed her face in a wild sort of way.  She was dressed in a sleeveless shirt and short skirt with no leggings; she also wore a chain-link vest.  She had bracers on her forearms and shins as well as a blue bandana around her right upper arm.  Even with bracers, Tegan could see that her bared arms and legs were well tanned and muscled.  The guard had a broad sword strapped across her back, but she didn’t draw it.  She didn’t need to; her stare was dangerous enough.  Tegan began backing away.

                “Drop the spear,” the huge one commanded in Hyperion, although with a sing-song accent.  Tegan was surprised that the woman spoke Hyperion because the earlier guard had seemed to have no comprehension of it.  When Tegan hesitated in her surprise, the woman added, “Now,” in a voice that sent a cold chill over Tegan.  Knowing she had no choice, Tegan did as the woman commanded, tossing the spear on the ground to her right.  Then the guard said, “On the ground, face down!”  Tegan held her hands up and open and began to kneel.

                “I come in peace--” Tegan said as she knelt, but the huge one cut her off.

                “Silence, spy!  You will not speak until I tell you to speak!” she barked.  Tegan closed her mouth. 

                The two other guards ran to Tegan, flipping their crossbows on to their backs.  As one of them shoved Tegan to the ground and held her down with a knee on her neck, the other roughly pulled Tegan’s arms behind her back and tied them with a length of rope.  After the two guards had bound Tegan’s hands, they stood but left Tegan on the ground.  Tegan rolled slightly on her left side to get her face out of the dirt and to observe her captors.

 

Delia watched as Collyn and Ahnis deftly bound the young invader and left him lying on the ground.  She removed her hands from her hips and crossed her arms across her chest.  Then, with pleasure, she thought ahead to the moment when the invader would be executed.  Delia loved executions. 

When Delia saw young Neeka get up and regain her footing, she put her private thoughts aside and went to confront her newest border guard about her complete and utter failure.   Delia picked up the discarded spear, strode over to Neeka, and stood looming over her. 

“You want to explain yourself, Neeka?  Hmmm?  Why the hell did we find you knocked on your ass with a Hyperion spy standing over you holding your own spear in his hands?”

“I had him, Delia, I did!  Then he...he....” 

“Neeka, you let an invader disarm you, you let him disable you, and if we hadn’t showed up, you probably would have let him disembowel you.” 

When Neeka tried to object, Delia thrust the spear back into her hands.  “Try to hang on to this.” 

Neeka grabbed her spear tightly and shot a look of pure malice at the invader.  Delia turned her back on Neeka and walked to where the invader was lying.  Delia stood several paces before him. 

“Ahnis, get him on his feet.  Collyn, pat him down.” 

 

Tegan followed Delia with her eyes as she left Neeka and came to stand over her once again.  Tegan heard Delia make commands in Drakn to the other two guards.  Tegan couldn’t understand what the Drakns were saying, but she thought she could make out names.  The huge one was Delia, and the young guard whom Tegan had bested was Neeka.  The black-haired one was called Ahnis, and she now lifted Tegan to her feet and stood behind her and held the rope that bound her wrists.  The blonde was called Collyn, and she took position in front of Tegan.  She met Tegan’s eyes for a moment, then she nodded at Ahnis.  Suddenly, Tegan felt a dagger at her throat. Tegan swallowed, feeling the blade against her skin.

                Collyn began patting Tegan down, checking for hidden weapons.  She removed the small knife that Tegan kept tucked in her boot; then she removed Tegan’s belt pouch and the contents of her pants pockets.  When Collyn  began to open Tegan’s vest, Tegan started to struggle slightly, so Ahnis tightened her grip and pressed the dagger more firmly against her neck.  Tegan felt the sharp blade cut into her skin; she stopped struggling and shut her eyes.  Collyn reached inside Tegan’s open vest. 

 

                When Collyn reached Tegan’s breasts, the blonde border guard gave a startled gasp.  “Mother/Maker!” she said as she gripped one breast, then the other, trying to assure herself that she wasn’t imagining things. 

                “What is it?” Ahnis asked, wondering why Collyn was acting so strangely.

                “She’s a woman, Ahnis,” Collyn said, stepping away.  “Our invader is female!”

 

When Collyn removed her hand, Tegan opened her eyes.  She saw Collyn standing in front of her with a look of amazement on her face.  Collyn’s form was quickly replaced by Delia’s as she brushed Collyn aside, determined to find out for herself what exactly this invader was.  Like Collyn, Delia touched each breast in turn and then repeated the process for confirmation.  Then she began to laugh.  Tegan’s face turned red with humiliation; then she felt the dagger at her throat pulled away.

                “A female Hyperion who knows how to fight and who’s dressed as a man!” Delia exclaimed in Hyperion.  Then, pointing at Tegan, she said, “You I must take to Leta.”

                As Delia started to turn away, Tegan spoke.  “Why don’t you just listen to what I have to say?  I--”  Tegan’s words were stopped by a sharp backhand across her face. 

                “I told you not to speak, spy,” Delia said slowly and coldly, her momentary amusement quickly gone.  “Remarkable or not, man or not, you signed your own death warrant the moment you stepped onto our shores.  Body and soul, you are mine to do with as I please.  Whether you will die is not an issue here, but how you will die is.  I suggest you remember that.”

                Delia turned to Neeka and said something to her in the Drakn language.  Neeka streaked off, apparently pleased to do anything to regain her commander’s blessing.  Delia then spoke to Collyn, who promptly retrieved Tegan’s pack.  Delia then turned to lead the group down to the beach.  Ahnis nudged Tegan to follow Delia. 

 

                When they came down to the beach, Delia and Collyn retrieved the horses while Ahnis held Tegan.  When the other two Drakns had mounted, Ahnis led Tegan to Delia.  Delia grabbed Tegan by her vest and dumped her unceremoniously over the front of the saddle.   Once Ahnis had mounted, the group set off down the beach at a moderate trot. 

Being draped over Delia’s horse, Tegan was unable to watch as her Drakn captors carried her from her hiding place to the Keep at Caella.  All she knew was that the ride was killing her, and it seemed to take forever.  The awkward position in which she was bound and dumped across the horse wrenched her shoulders and torso.  The saddle horn was jamming unmercifully into her rib cage.  Worst of all, the constant bobbing up and down was making her sick. 

                When the Drakns reached the Keep, they entered the gates then stopped their horses.  Delia lifted Tegan off her lap and dropped her to the ground.  Tegan landed with a thump, unable to break her fall with her hands bound.  She groaned and rolled onto her side but did not get up, being too sore and too queasy to try.  Delia and her companions dismounted and left their horses with the gate guards.  Delia came straight back for Tegan.

                “Get up!” Delia ordered.  Tegan attempted to comply, but she wasn’t quick enough for Delia, who grabbed her by the arm and jerked her to her feet.  Tegan had trouble standing at first because of the dizziness, but once her head cleared, she stopped swaying and stood firmly on her feet again.  Delia dragged Tegan to an area on the other side of the gate.  It was a roped-off area in the center of which was a large stump surrounded by loose straw.  Next to the stump was a round basket and a large axe.  Tegan didn’t have to be told the purpose of this area; she looked away. 

                Delia whispered in Tegan’s ear, “That’s where you’re headed, but you won’t be ‘headed’ when you come out!”  Delia roared with malicious delight.

                “Delia!” Collyn chided.  “Must you be so cruel to her?  She is barely out of childhood!”

                Delia whipped around to face Collyn.  “Why do you defend her?  Because she’s a woman?  She is one of them, and they deserve what they get, every single one of them, for what they do to us, for what they...”  Delia stopped, unable to go on.

                Tegan held her breath as the two Drakns confronted one another, not wanting to draw attention to herself. 

                “Isn’t it enough that they die here?” Collyn asked softly.

                “No, it isn’t,” Delia declared.  Then she dragged Tegan away from the execution area and into the keep itself.

                After moving through several passageways, they came to a circular room with a large round table in the back center and several long rectangular tables around the perimeter.  The rectangular tables had chairs here and there, but the round table had none.  Tall windows were on all sides, so the room was well lit.  Book shelves filled the wall spaces between windows.  Behind the round table were doorways to adjacent rooms.  All of the tables were covered with paper: scrolls, documents, and maps.   Neeka stood beside the round table, her arms crossed defiantly and her eyes shining with hatred.  An older woman leaned over the table, her hands flat on its surface.  Her hair was light brown and graying, long but pulled tight into a single braid.  She was lean and wiry, the muscles in the arms well defined under her leathery skin.  Each arm had a series of s that wound around her biceps.  She was wearing pants, boots, and leather vest, all black, and a single scarf, purple, tied in a ring around her neck.  She was pacing around the table, looking down at a huge map that covered the entire surface.

                Delia announced, “The Hyperion spy, Leta.” 

                Then Delia thrust Tegan forward to kneel before the one called Leta.  The woman looked up from the table, stood up straight, and came around the table to examine Tegan.  She wasn’t as physically intimidating as Delia, but her bearing suggested power, and her gaze was piercing.  Tegan was afraid of her; she knew without a doubt that her life was in this Leta’s hands; if Tegan did not find a way to convince Leta, she would certainly be handed over to Delia for execution.

 

Leta looked at the female spy’s face; for a moment, Leta’s brow furrowed as if she were trying to think of something that eluded her.  Then she shook her head and spoke.

                “A female Hyperion crossing the channel.  I can’t say that’s ever happened before.  Especially not one who knows how to fight and comes disguised as a man.  What’s your name, girl?”  Leta asked.

                “Tegan,” she replied, “and I’m not Hyperion.”

                “Well, what are you, then?” 

                “I’m Lokien, and I don’t like the Hyperions any more than you do.”  

                “Right,” Leta said, unconvinced.  Then she continued, “It doesn’t matter what you are.  Sacrinsia is off limits to all but Drakns.  To land on our beaches at any time, but especially during time of war, is to invite execution.  Surely you know this.  So why are you here?  Have you come to spy on us for the Hyperions?” 

                “I’m not a spy.  I came in order to bring you something.”  Neeka huffed in retort, but Leta lifted her hand, and Neeka became silent.  Tegan continued, “When my father was near death, he made me promise to return something that belonged to the Drakn people.  He said that it had come into his possession a long time ago and that he should have returned it but never did.  So I’m here to honor my promise to my father.” 

                “What is this mysterious something?”  Leta asked. 

                “A book,” Tegan replied.  “It’s in my pack, in the leather pouch.”

                “Collyn,” Leta said to the guard carrying the pack.  The guard located the pouch and handed it over.  Leta opened the pouch and pulled out the book.  “What is it?” she asked Tegan. 

                “I don’t know.  I can’t read Drakn, and Father never told me,” she responded. 

                As Leta started to leaf through the book, she spoke absently to the guard standing behind Tegan, “Ahnis, take our little delivery girl to a holding cell until I’ve had time to examine this book.”

“Why wait?  Turn her over to me, and I’ll see to her execution,” Delia said.

“Yes, she’s an invader, she should be executed,” Neeka agreed.

“It can wait.  She’s not going anywhere.” Leta said.  “I’ll deal with her later.”

                Tegan’s heart nearly stopped as she remembered the stump and the axe where Delia had been so anxious to send her.  As she was led away from the room, Tegan heard Leta suddenly exclaim something in Drakn.  A great commotion inside ensued, but Tegan couldn’t understand what they were saying.

                Ahnis led Tegan down some stairs to a dark and dank corridor lined with heavy wooden doors with iron fixtures.  If I can just get my hands untied, I might stand a chance against her, Tegan thought. 

As if she were reading Tegan’s mind, Ahnis said, “Don’t even think about it.”  Then she shoved Tegan inside the first cell.

Tegan whipped around to face Ahnis.  “Why not?  You’re going to kill me anyway.  Maybe I can take you out with me.”  

“Not likely.  I’m no rookie like Neeka,” Ahnis said, closing the space between herself and Tegan.  She stared Tegan down; then she grabbed her by her vest and set her on the dirt floor and leaned her against the wall.  Ahnis backed out of the cell and locked the door.

It was momentarily pitch black inside Tegan’s cell since there was no window.  The only light came from the tiny crack beneath the door.  Tegan turned her wrists to check the ropes, but they were secure.  She closed her eyes and tried not to think about the execution that awaited her.  Tegan chided herself, What did you think, you little fool?  That you could just sneak over here and dump a book in their laps and they’d hail you as some great benefactor?  Then she whispered in the darkness, “Why did you send me here, Father?”

 

Leta didn’t look up to see Ahnis take Tegan from the room.  She was too fascinated by the book that the young woman had brought them.  It was definitely Drakn; there was no doubt about that.  It seemed to be a journal of some kind.  But whose?  She continued scanning random pages until her eyes settled on a passage that made everything clear. 

“Holy Mother of us all!” Leta exclaimed. 

“Leta!  What is it?” Collyn asked.

“Holy Mother and Maker of us all!” Leta continued, flipping frantically back to the beginning of the book.

“What is it?  What’s the matter?” Delia asked.

“This is Ganyd’s journal!”

“Ganyd?  That’s impossible!” Neeka said.  “She died years ago.  Didn’t she?”

“She disappeared years ago.  We never did find out what happened to her,” Leta replied.

“This must be some kind of trick,” Delia said.

“I don’t think so.  There are details here, things only Ganyd would know.  It tells what happened to her.”

“Tell us!  Read it to us!” Collyn begged.

Leta nodded then motioned for everyone to move to the sitting area adjacent to her work room.  Then she began to read the book out loud.  Everyone in the room was spell bound.  When Ahnis returned from the cell block, Leta caught her up on what they had discovered; then she picked up where she left off in her reading.  Although pausing frequently for periodic outbursts, Leta kept reading until she had finished the whole book.  When she was done, the Drakns just sat in silence for a few moments, each one struggling to make sense out of what they had just heard.

“This is too freaky,” Neeka said finally.

“Yeah,” Ahnis agreed.

“I’ve always wondered what happened to Ganyd,” Leta said.  “I felt so guilty when she disappeared--”

“By the Goddess, Leta!” Collyn interrupted.  “She doesn’t know.  Tegan doesn’t know.  You saw her in here.  She didn’t have a clue.”

“We don’t know that this invader is who she says she is.  This could be some elaborate ploy by Corgen to get a spy in our midst,” Delia said.

“I think we’d better have a chat with her,” Leta said.  “Ahnis, go get Tegan.  Neeka, go tell Genna there will be a group going to Doma shortly.”

 


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