‘It’s so cold!’ Root shivered as he buckled up Chasing the Stars’ saddle, stamping his feet on the icy cobbles to get some warmth in them. Comfortably wrapped in her padded winter tack, his dragon nuzzled at him, searching for the honey tablets she knew he would be carrying. Root had been warned by Tangnost that his beloved mount was looking a little plump, and as he eased out the girth strap one notch more, he had to admit the Dragonmaster was right.
As the Month of the Wolf Moon drew to a freezing close, the snow had finally stopped falling. Dragonsdome and the Sorcerers Glen wore a thick mantel of white, the roads and viaducts of the glen were blocked, the loch frozen. Today the overcast sky had cleared, and it seemed as if, after months of confinement, everyone in the kingdom was out and about. But for Root and Quenelda and their dragons, the only place to be was in the air! Snow crunched beneath Root’s feet as he took his eager mare to meet Quenelda, who was leading Two Gulps out of the warmly glowing battledragon roosts.
Soon they were swooping above the crowded ice-locked harbours, and speeding over the loch towards the thick woodland that skirted the northern shore. The air was thick with dragons, griffins and hippogriffs. Seeing a dark opening beneath the snow-covered trees, Root and Chasing the Stars darted in. There was a strange breathless silence beneath the icy canopy, disturbed only when a branch weighted with snow snapped, or a pheasant called. Root and his mount deftly wove between the great pines, startling a herd of deer in a clearing. He could hear the cracking of brittle branches as Two Gulps battered his way through the trees behind them.
‘Root?’ Quenelda’s voice was muffled. ‘Root, where are you?’
Taking hold of a laden spruce branch, Root softly urged his dragon behind a huge pine. With a snort of smoke, Two Gulps crossed the little clearing, and then pursuing dragon and rider were almost upon them. Letting go of the branch, Root dodged out of the way as Quenelda and Two Gulps flew smack into a wall of snow. As the dragon collided with the branch, the pine tree shivered in protest, and more snow and frozen needles cascaded down, forcing them to land. Two Gulps shook his head and flamed to show his displeasure, melting more snow and drenching them. Quenelda shook her wet head, cursing as lumps of ice melted and trickled down her back. She could hear Root whooping with delight.
‘Right,’ she fumed as a large pine cone bounced off her head. Gathering up her reins, she urged her battledragon upwards in pursuit.
Catch him, Two Gulps! Catch him …
I am trying … came the short-tempered reply as Two Gulps struggled through the pine trees. As they failed to spot their elusive quarry, Quenelda belatedly realized that she might have a fearsome and highly trained battle-dragon of her own, but cave-dwelling Sabretooths did not have the manoeuvrability or the speed of a Widdershanks. She and Two Gulps took to the ground, and he stormed forward over the dense pine needles that coated the forest floor.
‘Arghhh!’ she screamed as the familiar magenta-blue dragon darted in front of her, and then, in the blink of an eye, vanished between the tree trunks. She looked up, then behind, then to her left, just as Chasing the Stars shot round Two Gulps’ starboard flank and disappeared again into the gloom.
Hot on her tail, Quenelda and Two Gulps thundered out of the woodlands into blinding sunlight reflected from banks of snow. Chasing the Stars continued to torment and tease the slower battledragon. She circled and spun in the sunlight, darting about as she had done in the Cauldron, until the clumsier Sabretooth was exhausted. As Chasing the Stars swung beneath him yet again, the bad-tempered battledragon flamed.
‘Oi!’ Root protested as he felt the warmth brush against his cheek and kiss his mare’s flank.
‘Oh, Two Gulps!’ Quenelda’s heart was not in the reprimand. She too felt like swatting the annoying Root out of his saddle. He was as bothersome as a cloud of midges.
‘Let’s race,’ she suggested. Two Gulps could do with letting off some steam after a long confinement in the roosts, and so could she. And of course, she always won, so – that would take Root down a peg or two.
Root’s eyes lit up. He was eager to show off his new-found ease with flying. ‘Where to?’ The young gnome still had to think about the geography of the Sorcerers Glen. Everything looked so different in the air, and there were so many other things to consider – tops of trees, gusts of wind, bridges, and collisions with other dragons, or bad tempered eagles.
‘The Old Broch,’ Quenelda suggested.
Root nodded. He could picture the ruins of the ancient circular tower that lay atop a knoll several leagues west of them.
‘On the count of three: three … two …’ Now, Two Gulps! she whispered, to give her mount a head start. ‘One … GO!’
Chasing the Stars exploded into action. Despite his head start, without the help of a dragonpad, Two Gulps struggled to gain height and speed. The broken tail wasn’t helping either. As they piled sideways into another deep snow drift after rounding a stand of rowan trees too swiftly, Quenelda realized with disbelief that she was going to lose. By the time she arrived at the Old Broch, the other pair had landed and Root was leaning nonchalantly against his mount’s flank, chewing on a frosted blade of grass.
‘We won!’ he pointed out – rather unnecessarily, Quenelda thought as she brought Two Gulps down beside him.
‘But, Two—’
She opened her mouth to tell Root that it had not been a fair contest; that Two Gulps was handicapped by his broken tail. Then, with an effort, she bit back her protest. Kicking her feet free of the stirrups, Quenelda slid to the ground on her mount’s blind side so that Root couldn’t see her face. Rummaging in her saddlebags for a flask of bramble juice, she tried to understand why she was feeling as grumpy as Two Gulps.
The answer didn’t please her at all. She was jealous! It was a new emotion; no one had ever beaten her! No one! Flying dragons was what she did. It was an unpleasant experience, and fleetingly brought sympathy for the countless esquires she had humiliated and belittled for not keeping up with her. That feeling passed swiftly, however: Quenelda was not one to dwell on setbacks.
As Root and Chasing the Stars rubbed noses in mutual congratulation, Quenelda realized that the gentle dragon had changed as much as her master. They both had a new confidence since they had come to her rescue at the Winter Jousts. She had fulfilled her pledge to her father and more: she had taught Root only too well, she reflected wryly. Not that she was going to reveal that to her esquire, or anyone else. Quenelda moved round her battledragon and slid her helmet off.
‘Congratulations!’ She smiled, clasping Root’s hand in a military grasp. Not entirely convincing, but it was a good effort, and Root only smirked a little.