Part 1 - 1.3 Swallowtail

1.3.1 Discovery of the Horde

Astrid pushed her empty plate from her. She had come homefor a late dinner after a day of exploring the Spine and began another argumentwith her mother.
“Please, mother.”
“Not alone.”
“But hunting is poor. Only for one night.”
“You’re fifteen, hon, and it’s too dangerous outside thevalley to be by yourself.”
“I’ve been over every inch of the mountains, mom. It’ll giveme a better start tomorrow morning. Please, mom. Little Wing will be there toprotect me.”
“No. Not unless you bring Selina or another female Rider.”
“But they’re on duty. Mom, please.”
“No.”
Astrid pursed her lips and turned. “We’ll see,” she mumbledand slammed the door of their little cottage. Just outside waited her dragon andwithout so much as a hello, she mounted and took off.
Little Wing carried her along the volcanic core of theSpine, the impassable mountain range which divided North from South. The latespring meant poor hunting: the deer stayed under shelter and the smaller gamelike rabbit and fox remained too exhausting to track. The clouds to the westwarned that a hard rain would come tomorrow, so she planned to use the windowof good weather to explore. But her mother would not let her venture so faralone. Instead, they joined the dragons on the highest peaks to watch thesunset and make their plans.
The clans called them Swallowtail when Astrid and her dragonflew together; partners but not Riders. Every Rider had a part to play in villagelife as hunters or couriers to neighboring valleys. But they did not invite herand she did not expect them to: Riders thought her too independent, and shethought them too arrogant and condescending to the dragons. Except for heroldest friends, Selina and Finn, she rarely crossed paths with Riders.
She was happy as long as she remained free and not constrainedwithin the high cliffs surrounding Inverness, and each day found her furtherfrom home. But now a day’s ride presented the same barrier to her explorationsas the valley walls once did. The constraint produced another fight with her motherand another reason to run away.
To give herself time to think, Swallowtail joined thedragons to enjoy the dramatic sunset signaled by the oncoming storm clouds. Twogentle kicks from her heel told Little Wing to roll over and dive a thousandfeet to a high ridge with a clear view west. They landed and jostled the othersfor position.
As the sun approached the horizon, an older dragon flewerratically before the group, and then dashed away to the northeast. Astrid andthe dragons watched but did not follow. The old dragon came back and squawked forattention, and this time all but Little Wing took off and pursued him. When theold one came back a third time, it was clear what he wanted, and Swallowtailfollowed.
The old one sped to the northeast, high above the BloisRiver. This is where she wanted to go but was told not to, and never overnight.Even if she turned back now she would still be late and needed an explanationfor her mother. But I had to, mother, she thought. The old oneclearly wanted us to follow him. Someone may have been injured or required help.Mother will understand. She pursed her lips. And if she doesn’t, well...
One-by-one the other dragons returned home or landed to enjoythe setting sun until Swallowtail followed alone. At sunset they neared thenorthern edge of the mountain range where the Blois spilled over the falls intothe foothills of Cherryth. There were no true borders here, only ragged lineson the maps indicating where passage south was dangerous for all but trainedclimbers.
Little Wing carried Astrid past the hills and over regularrows of conical tents and flickering orange campfires. Beyond the fires, they glidedover a plain where men slept in the open. In the dim light of Fures, thesmallest moon, they glided toward a dark funnel that meandered across the field.But her dragon pulled up short when they hit a wall of flies which choked themboth and left them unable to see. Her dragon fluttered to a landing and snortedto clear his nose.
Astrid dismounted and recognized the funnel as a tornado ofcrows with vultures circling higher overhead. She walked toward it and steppedon something soft. A gust of wind swept past and the stench of rotting meatstruck her like a blow, and she realized where she stood. This was a field ofbattle where the fallen men and horses lay unburied. Unable to control herrevulsion, she retched.
A few meters away red eyes lifted from their work tearing atthe bodies below them and moved slowly toward her with low growls. Wild dogs,she thought and remembered the warnings that dogs were not shy of humans likewolves. Terrified, she ran to Little Wing and mounted. As he took off, hisclaws raked the wild beasts that jumped to bite his legs.
Little Wing settled on a hillock near the old dragon. Afterretching what little remained in her stomach, she crawled to the edge of thecliff to observe. She could not discern the dark shapes moving in the gloom shesat and waited for another moon to rise.
When moonlight from Lon flooded the scene below, Astrid gasped.Thousands of armed men wove their way through the foothills and up the Blois RiverValley, the same river which passed through Inverness many miles to the south.Huge machines crowded the narrow mountain trails: engines of war known onlyfrom stories, projectile weapons that could loft stones the length of threehundred men.
Astrid turned to the old dragon. Why the urgency? shewondered. She would certainly tell the Inverness Council of the battlefield andthe invaders, but they were still many leagues from home. Why would the oldone bring me here? She had no answer for him and prepared to mount LittleWing and return home when a piercing shriek sent chills up her spine—the cry ofa dragon. Immediately she put her hand on Little Wing’s muzzle to stop him fromcrying out in response. 
After Elen, the third and brightest moon, rose above thehorizon Astrid recognized a frail and sickly dragon struggling against theheavy chains which bound him. The old one that had brought them looked at herand cocked his head as if expecting her to explain this horror or stop it.
Astrid shook her head. “There’s nothing I can do.”
The old dragon took off, and she mounted Little Wing tofollow.
A single wingbeat aloft the chained beast wail again, and herdragon replied before she could stop him. Soon after she felt something hit hersaddle and her dragon screeched. She reached back to find a crossbow boltembedded in the thick leather behind her leg, pulled it out, and stuck it inher boot.