Igor Ironbeast's Arc

Chapter 3 of 9

Igor woke before dawn in the challenger's chamber. The small black dragon lay curled at the foot of the cot, scales glowing dull orange between the cracks. He rose, shouldered his axe, and pushed the door open. The dragon followed him into the corridor without a sound. He walked to the training yard behind the keep. Frost lay on the flagstones. He needed to know the beast before the court did. A wild animal at his heel in the great hall would give them the excuse they wanted. They would call it a menace and put a bolt through its throat, and through his claim with it. He drew a circle in the frost with the butt of his axe. He pointed at the dragon and then at the ground inside the circle. The dragon cocked its head. It did not move. Igor tried again. He walked three steps and struck a straw dummy at the yard's edge. The dragon shrieked and lunged past him. It hit the dummy in a burst of fire. Straw and flame scattered across the stones. A guard on the wall cursed and drew his crossbow. "Hold," Igor said. The guard held. The dragon crouched over the burning straw, teeth bared at nothing. Igor walked to it slowly. He put his hand on its neck. The scales scorched his palm. He did not pull back. "Down," he said. The dragon did not understand the word. But it understood the weight of his hand. It lowered its belly to the stones. Igor kept his hand there until the heat under the scales eased. Then he stepped back and pointed at the circle in the frost. The dragon walked into the circle and sat. He worked with the beast until the sun cleared the wall. He struck the dummy. The dragon watched. He raised a hand. The dragon stayed. He dropped the hand. The dragon burned the straw to ash. By the third hour it moved on his signal and stopped on his signal, and he had a name for it in his head. Emberling. A small thing that carried fire. Boots scraped the stone behind him. Igor turned. The warlord stood in the yard's arch. Kong. A giant in steel plate, one eye milk-white, the other fixed on Igor. Two guards flanked him and kept their distance. His scarred hands hung open at his sides. "So the stray heels," Kong said. He looked at the dragon sitting quiet in the frost circle. "My court wanted it dead. I told them to wait." Igor said nothing. Kong's good eye moved to the axe. "You killed my pit fighter. You tamed his beast. The gallery is talking." He smiled without warmth. "Your first champion fights you at dusk. I picked him myself." He turned and walked back into the keep. Igor set his hand on Emberling's neck. The scales were warm now, not burning. The court had watched him work. They had seen the beast obey. He had bought the dragon its life and his claim its ground. Dusk would cost him more.