There was numbness, and a detachment from the senses.  Air currents carried ash and soot around him.  Baneck tried to breath, but found the air dry and heavy.  A short distance away, he saw a large dragon, dark bronze in color, hostile and menacing.  He wanted to run, but something kept him from it.

He was just waving his arms, with an effort to get away, when awareness started coming to him.  His eyes cracked open, and he slowly recognized his own small room in his parents’ house.

The images of the dream fled from his mind.

He jerked fully awake with a start, sitting bolt-upright.  He was not dead.  And he was not a prisoner in a dragon’s lair.  He patted his chest and neck to make sure he was not wounded.

“Good morning.”

His mother, Amilyn, was sitting in a chair, looking tired and spent.  The mug in her hand held spiced cider.  He could tell from the aroma.  He saw a small pine tree sapling, potted in a large ceramic urn, sitting beside her.  The unusual thing was, the sapling was bearing pine cones.

“How long have I been unconscious?”

“Four days.”

“Four days?!”

She sat motionless.

“And this?” he blurted, with a nod to the plant.  He had never seen his mother’s syiajryn powers used so strongly.

“I’ve been in communion with the Spirits since they carried you back.  Even though Powerlave had never seen a body bearing the Mark of Wintermore before.”

“What do you mean, ‘Wintermore’?!” he breathed.

“Quiet!”  She swallowed hard, fighting back frustration.  “He had to be cautious.  So he used a curative sleep.  But I’ve been asking the Spirits to supply life to my son’s body, and do their part.”

She finally looked at him, her voice terse.  “It was difficult to ask such a favor for such an idiot, but that’s what mothers do.”

“But I was beaten.”

“Of course you were!  Did you not think you would be?!”  Her raised speech filled the little room with a punishing echo.

She handed him the mug, then sat back on her chair.

More calmly, she continued, “Did you not think Fawnlum would jump in?  Or she would not claim the right of combat, and fight that dragon herself to avenge you?  You almost led to her death with your act of foolishness.  She deserves better than that.”

Before he could get a word in, she continued, “You’re just lucky she’s your wife now, or you’d be in irons.”

“What-?  Why?!”

Her eyes narrowed with a great coldness, and he leaned back a little.  “You didn’t almost doom yourself and Fawnlum; you also nearly handed over the power of Wintermore to that wretched wyrm.  Fate only knows what he might have done with it!

“And all because you wanted to impress Saraty.”  She spit out the last syllable as if it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“But I can’t begrudge her,” she mumbled.  “She was willing to sacrifice her own daughter.”  She struggled for words, amidst the biting back of tears that squeezed at her throat.  “Oh, you foolish boy!  How could you have thought so little about what you were doing?”

“It’s not like that.  And how in the Nine Hells did Wintermore come into our family?”

“Such a noble girl,” she said grievingly, ignoring him, “nearly led to her death because of your irresponsibility!  I’m almost embarrassed to be offering her this,” she waved at him absently, “as a husband.  Thank Diergon you’re both alive.”

“Was she hurt?”

“What do you care?  But it’s done, now.  Your engagement is official.”  She buried her face in her hand.  “Foolish, foolish son.”

She looked back at him again, and said, “After you were carried off, she took your family name in the presence of the king and queen, and the whole nation.  It’s a proud thing for a woman to enter into a good union with a dependable man.  You’d better live up to your responsibility, and treat her right.”

She got up, and stretched the stiffness out of her muscles, before giving him a brief hug around the neck, and walked to the door.

“Was she hurt?!” he called, more urgently as she walked out.

The door suddenly swung back open, and Saraty walked in.

“No,” the tall warrior woman answered.

Baneck felt self-conscious, as he always did around her.  The mug he held was a blessed focus, a place to hold his hands while he was in her presence.

Without much ado, she sat in Amilyn’s chair.

He folded his legs under him, and sat up straighter, and slowly took a sip in preparation to hear more rebuke.

“Well, son-in-law, you finally did it.  You won my daughter’s hand.”

“It’s nice to hear you call me that.”

“Mm.”

She sat looking at him pleasantly.

“I didn’t mean to put her in danger.  I thought my magic weapons would give me an edge.”

“Oh, don’t make excuses.  And danger is part of our life.  It’s Fawnlum’s place to face a mighty foe, and you gave her one.  But your recklessness is something else.  How long were you going to keep that,” she pointed to the left side of his body, “a secret?”

“I didn’t know this was Wintermore, I swear.  This strange mark appeared one night on a full moon.  I found inspiration when I looked closely at it.  I was able to pick out individual runes, and found they had power when I carved them into objects.”

“Did you never think to ask what that mark was?”

“Why should I?  It was useful.”

“Look at it now.”

He looked at her a little quizzically.

Then, lifting up his shirt, he saw the tattoo was plainly visible.

He looked back at her.  “It’s never appeared in the daylight before!  Only in bright moonlight.  It’s never appeared with,….”  He searched for the right words.  “I’ve never seen so much of it before.”

“Felldrake cast a spell after you were beaten, and made it appear.

“It’s the power of a thousand tales.  And a thousand-thousand covetous eyes.  And you never thought about how it might be used for evil purposes.”

“I told you, I didn’t know.  What I care about, is Fawnlum.  She’s your honorable daughter.  Yet I would have never earned your approval, no matter what faith she placed in me.”

“Don’t blame your blunder on me.”

“I was never good enough for you,” he said evenly.

He flexed and relaxed his shoulders.  “But I was going to show you,” he continued.  “Why should this mark appear on my body?  I didn’t know.

“But I found power in it.  I thought I could craft a sword for Fawnlum that would help in her training.

“Then the dragon threatened us.  Her training would come to a stop if war broke out, and all her efforts would be useless.  But I could still make an effort of my own, if I did it right.”

“You were stupid!  Are you anxious to break her heart?”

“You didn’t care about her heart breaking when you kept coming between us.”

“It didn’t matter if a war started,” he said, his own blame clear in his voice.  “You would not change your mind.  What choice did you leave me?  A man who doesn’t take matters into his own hands isn’t a man.”

Grudgingly, she nodded.  Then she gave a little laugh.  “Well, you nearly died for her.  I expect good things from you, son-in-law.”  She placed emphasis, in not a hostile way, on the last words.  “So now what?”

“What do you mean?”

“Yours and Fawnlum’s union is recognized.  But you should not have your formal marriage ceremony right away.  She has not led a regiment yet, despite her great ability.  You don’t have your own forge yet, despite your skill.  I think you should have a stake – – something built up, before you concentrate on enjoying married life.”

“But many people get married at this point.  They do it with even less than she and I have now.

“I’ll find work as I always have.  And a crafter could not ask for a better claim to fame.”

“Are you going to create a bevy of weapons that can slay a red without magical help?  Old Spearhorns would see such a thing as a threat, and the treaty could be endangered.  Did you think about that?”

He thoughtfully scratched his chin.  “No.”

“How fast will you get work?  Do you know that people who possess your crafts are now looking at them with concern, wondering if they hold a bit of Wintermore?  Would it bring harm?”

His face lost all expression.  The people of their nation held great faith in the physical, tangible world they lived in.  With the exception of their own wizards, the powers called upon by their clerics, and the inherent powers of the Natural World, nearly all other forms of magical power were cause for suspicion.

“I haven’t used this power for anything like that.”

“It does not remove the fear,” she said, with a stronger air of authority.

“But, I’m just like any magic-crafter who was gifted with the power of the Starpool Chalice.  I carve the runes on our warriors’ weapons, like my father and grandfather, and all the other smiths of our people!”

“You were like others.  Not anymore.”

He was at a loss, but she did not let it go.  “This will pass.  But in the meantime, a young married couple should not have to be concerned with making do.”

“Your words give me concern,” he said.

“But what would you have me do?” he asked, already suspecting her answer.

“Just let you have your own forge, and let her have her own command.  That’s all I ask.”

He took a moment, then answered, “Very well.”

“Don’t look so discouraged.  You’ve already waited this long.  You can wait a little longer.”

He let out a deep sigh.

“I appreciate your council, mother-in-law.  Where’s Fawnlum?”

“Right out there.”

“Can she come in?”

“Of course.”

He watched as Saraty stood and exited, and Fawnlum came in.  The authoritative mood that Saraty had set was instantly replaced, with a dour cloud that followed his sweetheart as she silently closed the door, sat, and looked at him with empty eyes.

The uncomfortable silence stretched out.  He was going to be criticized by yet another female.  He set his mug on the floor, and decided he might as well get it over with.

“I’m glad you’re all right.”

She silently snapped her hand out, landing a sharp slap on his cheek with a punishing sting.  So fluid was her movement, he did not feel it until her hand was back in her lap.

“I’m still angry with you.”

He held up his hands hopelessly.  “Well, will you still have me?”

“Yes, foolish husband.  But don’t ever do anything like this again.  Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Her shoulders sagged, and she rubbed her eyes in frustration.  For the first time Baneck had ever known, she sounded exhausted, but not in a physical sense.  She was spent emotionally.  Frighteningly for Baneck, she looked as if she had no feelings to give at this moment.  “How could you put me through that?”

“I thought I could prevent a war.”

“That is the most foolish thing I’ve ever heard.  How could you challenge a red dragon, of all things?”

“I found powerful magic for my weapons,….”

“Idiot.  All to prove something to my mother, you stepped up to die.  And did you never think about my death, when my grieving heart broke in two?”

“I couldn’t bear to lose you just because I wasn’t good enough.  Or because you would go off to fight when a brood of reds came against us.”

She suddenly snapped at him, “You shouldn’t make your decisions based on my mother!”

“Well, if that dragon – ”

“Forget the dragon!  What you did was dumb and reckless!  Acting all on your own and throwing your life away!”

“If I can’t have you, then life means nothing!

“I know my strength is not the same as a warrior’s; but there’s strength in that truth!”

Then he softened his voice and repeated, “My life would be nothing without you.”

“You don’t know how it feels to be helpless to change something.”

“Oh no?  Not when I was helpless to change your mother’s mind?”

“Don’t you dare say that.  I had to watch while you fought Felldrake.”  Her moistened eyes took on a steely glare.  “You grieved me.”

His strong front deflated, he had no response.  Her heart, so filled with courage, added to her unstoppable spirit, and the light in his life.  He held her heart in his hands, and the gravity of what he had done came clear to him.

“Is it true that love makes people do stupid things?”

She quietly looked down at the floor.  “I have the living proof in front of me.”

“I won’t pick any more fights with dragons, I promise.”

She moved over, sitting next to him on the cot.  She gave him a tight embrace, which he gratefully returned.

The moment was short-lived, as the door squeaked open, and Honee slipped in, and stepped out of the way, as heavy boot-steps sounded through the threshold, and the door flew open to reveal a black-bearded bear of a man in worn traveling clothes.

“There’s my dragon-slayers!” he boomed in a jolly voice.  “Baneck!  This is no time to be in bed!”

Neither of the young lovers responded.  The arrival of Baneck’s old Uncle Torsar from one of his far-away trips was all too familiar.

“Ah!  Well, then.  Carry on!  I’ll see you in a little bit.”