myths, as I thought them.”
“Then tell us those,” Norl insisted.
“I will,” Sele the Plump replied. “You had better sit down.”
“Long ago, in the time before time, when Taun was new,” Sele the Plump began when Norl had seated himself, “the people of this world and the dragons lived in peace.”
Hhana had not sat down beside them. She remained standing, staring at the Sele. There was a mixture of fascination and what might possibly be fear in her eyes. The Sele looked at her for a long moment, then gave itself a little shake and went on.
“There were people such as yourself, Norl, and Cat-ryn and Dahl, and people of the Sele such as myself. We all paid homage to the Elders, who were our protectors and teachers. I say we lived in peace but, according to the tales, it was not always easy. Dragons are uncomfortable creatures to live with, even at the best of times.” The Sele moved back again as a log on the fire flared up.
“But there was another race on Taun, then,” he went on. A people who combined the attributes of humans and dragons, both the good and the evil: the dragonlings. They were a fearsome race, and not reliable, but they helped keep the peace on Taun when it suited them. There should also have been a dragonmaster, one who could keep them in check, but there was not. Perhaps if there had been, things would not have come to pass as they did…” The Sele fell silent.
“What happened?” Hhana broke in. She had not taken her eyes off the Sele. “What happened to the dragonlings?”
The Sele looked up at her. “Their power twisted them,” it replied, holding her eyes with its own. “They sided more and more often with the dragons and did more harm than good. Then they began to disappear. No one knew where,no one knew why. As they vanished, the dragons grew aggressive. They grew greedy. They began to plunder the towns and cities of Taun. They began to realize that the people of Taun were weak and unable to oppose them—that the people were insignificant. ”
Hhana flushed even darker.
“And then the dragonlings disappeared completely,” Sele the Plump said, “and the dragons became unstoppable.”
“But there are no dragons left now,” Norl said. “Only Caulda. What happened to them?”
The Sele dropped its eyes and looked back at Norl. “The people revolted. Without the tempering influence of the dragonlings, they came to hate the beasts, and hunted them down. A dragon is fearsome, but it is not invulnerable. The people formed packs—mobs—and killed them wherever and whenever they could. The Elders tried to stop the massacre, but there was no reasoning with the inflamed people. The dragons fought back, of course. Whereas before they had limited themselves to plundering things which they deemed to be of value—jewels, gold, treasures of the kings and the wealthy—now, as they were being slaughtered, they began to take their revenge.”
The Sele stopped speaking and then, finally, it continued.
“Taun became a place of blood lust and murder, and that opened the door, the old tales say. It opened a rift in the fabric of the world that allowed evil to enter. What theevil was, the tales could not say, but we have seen it at work, even in our own times. It was the evil that murdered Dahl’s parents and set a usurper in his place as King of Taun. It was the evil that possessed the last of the dragons, Caulda, and her son, who nearly killed the Protector of Taun and who in turn was slain by Dahl.
“But the evil is gone now,” Norl protested.
“As long as Caulda lives, the evil lives as well,” the Sele answered.
“What about me? ” Hhana cried, interrupting them. “You call me dragonling —am I infected with this evil, too? Will I be twisted, too?”
“Only you can decide that,” Sele the Plump said. “Where you came from I do not know, and how you, alone, survived, I do not know, either.”
“Impossible!” Hhana cried. “This is not true. This is all a
Learning to Kill: Stories