Dragon Australis

Chapter One

Under the scorching desert sun, Samantha tumbled a last heavy stone atop the pile she had been amassing all morning. It wasn't much but the burial cairn ensured her beloved mentor's body be returned to the earth. Better the hard work now than the bitter regret later of having left a loved one to be fed upon by the jackals of The Sands.

Wiping a sweat soaked tangle of frazzled red hair from her eyes, the sun bronzed woman sat back upon the sand and grit glad for a moment's respite. She stared solemnly at the pile of jagged stones sad at what lay beneath. Such an unsettling thing it was that a person could be up and roaming the world one day and buried beneath it the next.

'Oh Tarkin,' she cried. Such sorrow it was to lose the only person she had known or even spoken to since childhood. 'You have given me so much,' she wept, thumbing the split ruby-emerald dragon dangling from a leather cord about her neck – a sixteenth birthday present some three summers ago - 'a life where there should have been death; and hope. Hope for a better day.

You always swore us cursed to find ourselves living in a desert cave, but you somehow made it bearable, and on occasion, made me laugh. I only wish the better future you had always promised me could have extended to you.' Tears streamed as the young woman reminisced, but she quickly steeled herself and decided it best to hurry her eulogy. 'Rest now, my only friend.'

The caw of carrion overhead snapped Samantha from her grief. The morning had been taxing, and even though exhausted, the thought of spending even a night alone in the cave that she had for so long shared with Tarkin as a home, suddenly terrified the wits out of her.

'The day will come Samantha, when you will bury me, at which time you must don your father's armour, and wear his longsword. You must leave this place and never look back. Take all I have taught you and use it well. Journey north to Carthis and buy passage across the sea to the continent of Ariadne, for they are your people.

Whence there, it should be an easy feat to once again buy passage over the seas all the way up to Orcadia, your parent's homeland. Venture nowhere else, for you are innocent in the ways of this world. While journeying to Carthis you will come across many peoples. You will likely meet a dark skinned people called the Ashanti. Never trust them. They are are the ones who killed your parents.

Also, you will happen across some of the Sanders. These swarthy desert people have a culture unlike anything we northerners can adjust to, you would do best to keep your distance from them whenever possible. Remember, out there, it is a wild. If you are not the hunter, you are the prey. Thus I have trained you all these years. Always remember my dear girl, no matter where you find yourself, you are indeed the hunter, for you are a dragon.'

Tears continued to form as the leather clad Samantha walked back to the cave one last time. Her recollections of the past were fractured. On a stormy night many years ago, as they sat roasting gazelle meat by a crackling fire, Tarkin had explained that young minds possessed an ability to block out potentially harmful memories. She could remember her parents vaguely, but only as they were, in a far way place, amid stone corridors and lush green fields. How she came to be orphaned she simply could not recall. Thankfully, Tarkin had been there to save her.

Entering the dark cool of the cave, Samantha shook away the notion she had returned home. Home for her according to Tarkin, was very far away. He had been adamant that upon his passing she should stay within the cave of her upbringing no longer than it took to pack her possessions, take one last look around and leave.

Wiping away her tears, Samantha became resolved to do just that. The leathers she wore were as Tarkin had once explained, a crude form of gumbeson. They were to be worn under armour, and it started to dawn upon the grief stricken woman what must be waiting within the confines of her keepsake chest. Quickly draining a waterskin before discarding it, she knelt before the keepsake chest reverently, ignoring the discomfort of the cave's pebble strewn floor against her knees. Tarkin had referred to the contents of the chest a dozen times over the years and though Samantha had a fair idea what lay within, she was excited to be finally opening it nevertheless.

Taking a deep breath to help fortify herself against whatever it was she was about to uncover, Samantha turned the silver clasp and lifted. The lid creaked open easily, and immediately light even as the cave offered glistened from the contents within.

Resting upon a coat of mail tinged green by oxidisation, lay her father's longsword. Gingerly, as though reaching out to an apparition, Samantha wrapped her fingers about its hilt before snatching it to her breast. The grip was cool and rough in her hand, but stirred within her a tremendous sense of power and closeness to her long lost father. Studying the decorated pommel, her eyes opened in surprise, it was inset with a bejewelled dragon almost identical to the one she wore about her neck. Raising the precious heirloom above her head, her eyes traced up and across the forte, and along the length of the blade itself in which had acid been employed to etch the phrase, 'Dragon of the South'. Catching a ray of light the blade shimmered brilliantly, nothing like the dull, nicked swords Tarkin and herself had spent the past decade sparring with.

Samantha swung the longsword in an arc about the air before her. Cutting through the air effortlessly the blade seemed even to sing. Despite her grief Samantha laughed. The sword was unlike anything she could have imagined, perfectly weighted and balanced. She commenced an impromptu training drill, flicking and twirling the blade, employing both hands to perform a series of faux parries, reverse sweeps, power thrusts, and wide arc assaults, all the while marvelling at the new precision of her movements. The sword was marvellous!

Reverently placing the heirloom longsword upon her leather cot, Samantha retrieved her father's mail to discover a scabbard lay beneath. Hurriedly donning the mail coat the young woman noticed it had been appropriately adjusted for her. Tarkin must have laboured many nights while she slept, it fit perfectly.

Normally a cumbersome armour, her beloved mentor had adjusted the hem of the mail coat to finish just beneath her crotch and had entwined special hooks which once clasped upon the wide belt of her scabbard, would help alleviate some of the weight from her shoulders.

Likewise, he had removed the sleeves of the coat and fashioned bicep and forearm bracers of chainmail sown onto wide leather straps which could be buckled directly on to the limb, again helping alleviate weight from the shoulders. The result was a relatively light weight suit of highly protective armour, which would neither constrict movement, or comfort. Samantha was at once grateful and impressed.

Finally, at the very bottom of the chest lay a haversack. A small pocket contained a lace pull pouch of various silver and gold coins, items Samantha understood to be currency and important in the world of people. Replacing the pouch she then checked the haversack itself and recovered perhaps the most wondrous item of all.

Drawing it out as a magician might a never ending kerchief from his sleeve, Samantha finally found herself standing spread eagled holding a heavy battle standard. Within the vibrant red-green-split field of the cloth, sat in majesty, a roaring green-red split dragon. Embroidered across the top and bottom of the field in gold were the words, 'Behold the Dragons Borealis and Australis. Defend the Freedom of Honourable Orcadia'.

Samantha furrowed her brow upon reading the names of Australis and Orcadia. After all, as Tarkin had many times mentioned, her full name was Samantha Orcadia Australis. Why was she named after some faraway kingdom? Without hesitation she donned the striking standard as a cloak and hurried for the reflective properties of the cave's wellspring. The reflection was mediocre, but Samantha gasped regardless, her visage undeniable. She was a warrior!

She then moved to don her quiver of arrows before slinging her longbow across her back. Smiling, she was ready. Snatching the haversack she carefully packed it with rations, water-skins, fire starters, a spy glass, various maps, a dagger and a small hatchet before turning to leave. Upon reaching the mouth of the cave the now heavily armed woman turned to view the dusty place of her childhood one last time.

'Goodbye Tarkin,' she cried before turning away never to return.