1
Wyvern
Elsbeth calmly nockedan arrow into her grandfather’s crossbow and contemplated which of the villagers she’d have to shootfirst.
“Come out, Angus Weaver! ‘Tis your doing that the beast is attacking and eating ourlivestock!”
Wood planks shivered beneath hard blows as the mob outside beat their fists against her door and shouted theiranger.
“Aye, Angus, come out! You ain’t welcome here nomore!”
She waited until there was a pause in the battering and jerked the door open to face her adversaries. A cluster of startled villagers greeted her with glassy-eyed stares and spirit fumes strong enough to ignite a torch at six paces. As one, the crowd swayed back at the sight of the crossbow she pointed at them. Elsbeth was no marksman, but she could hit what she aimed for at close range. She leveled the sights on the mob’s ringleader, MalcolmMiller.
Big, muscled, with a head of shaggy hair and unkempt beard, he reminded her of a bear—brutish and quick to use force to get hisway.
Torchlight danced across the crowd, enhancing their drunken swaying—an eerie effect that transformed men into a single, viperous creature ready to strike the moment she moved. Malcolm’s features were especially cruel in the flickering light, reminding Elspeth of a Fool’s Day mask that had once frightened her as a small child. She suspected the light revealed much about Malcolm—the beast lurking behind thefaçade.
“Move aside, Elsbeth.” He lurched closer, hesitating when she raised the crossbow a littlehigher.
“Or what, Malcolm?” Her finger tightened against the bow’s trigger at the mob’s restless movements. Rivulets of sweat tickled her ribcage. The lump of fear wedged in her throat made it difficult to breathe, but she refused to move from the doorway. “Why have you brought these good people out into the night to beat my door down and disturb my grandfather’srest?”
Malcolm sneered, his small eyes glittering with a combination of malice and lust that made Elsbeth’s skin crawl. “You know why, woman. We want Angus.” Spittle flew from his mouth in a noxious spray. “He’s the reason the dragon is destroying this village and wiping out our herds.” He turned from her to face the crowd. “Is it not so, friends?” he trumpeted to his followers. “We had no trouble with dragon-kind until Weaver settled here, telling his tales of slaughtering such a beast and showing his dragon armor to all andsundry.”
A chorus of ayes answered him, and the men surged forward once more, driven by Malcolm’s words, to punish the man they believed the harbinger of their misery. Again, they hesitated at the sight of Elsbeth’s readycrossbow.
The ringleader jeered at his companions. “It’s just one woman with a single bolt! She can’t stop all ofus!”
Elsbeth raised her voice to match his. “Aye, just one bolt to kill one man. Which of you lads is willing to die so the rest of your brave friends can drag a crippled old man out into the cold and hang him?” Her upper lip curled when Malcolm himself made no move to rush her. “You Malcolm?” she sneered. “Give me an excuse. You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my ass since we came to live atByderside.”
Her grip on the bow firmed when Malcolm growled and took a threatening step forward. So be it. The miller’s son would go down first. Elsbeth had never killed anyone before, and her stomach churned with both terror and horror, but she didn’t hesitate and tookaim.
A commanding voice rang out. “Stop this! Hold, Isay!”
The crowd parted, opening a path for a diminutive, white-haired figure dressed in a night rail and tattered robe. Irena the Elder strode to the front, almost glowing with an aura of power. She leveled a glare on Malcolm so withering, he flinched away from her, shame-faced. Elsbeth wondered how such a small woman managed to quell an angry mob more effectively than a loaded crossbow. Whatever worked, she thought, heartily grateful for Irena’s suddenappearance.
The elder came to stand next to her. “How are you, girl?” Her voice was low, for Elsbeth’s earsalone.
“Terrified,” she whispered. “Thank all that’s sacred you came when you did. I thought I’d have to shootMalcolm.”
“No great loss there, and it might shut him up for once.” A twinkle of amusement lit Irena’s faded blue eyes, and Elsbeth smiled, despite her grimcircumstances.
Irena turned her damning glare on the rest of the crowd. Like Malcolm, many bowed their heads and shuffled their feet. A few, however, refused to be shamed and shouted theirgrievances.
“That dragon is killing our livestock and burning ourfields!”
“It’s vengeance for its kindred. Angus killed one of itsown!”
The old woman gave a disdainful snort. “And ye thought to stop it by swinging a dying old man on a gallows tree?” She crossed her thin arms. “Come straight from Will’s tavern, didn’t you, lads?” A few mutters confirmed her assumption, but none spoke up to argue, not even Malcolm who alternately glared at Elsbeth and undressed her with a lasciviousgaze.
“Go home,” Irena ordered. “If you wish, we’ll hold council tomorrow to discuss this problem, but we won’t be doing here in the cold night while a frightened woman holds off a pack of drunkards far gone into theircups.”
Elsbeth held her breath. Please, she prayed. Let the elder’s words be enough. She swallowed back a relieved exhalation when the men slowly wandered away, a few leaning on each other in stuporous camaraderie as they stumbledhome.
Malcolm left last. Unlike the others, drink hadn’t made him pliable, only more vicious, and he bared his teeth in a feral smile, gaze icy and sober. “This isn’t over between us,woman.”
Fear burned a cold fire in her belly, but she met his gaze, hiding that fear behind a shield of disdain. “We’ve yet to start anything, Malcolm.” She kept the bow trained on his midriff. “And we neverwill.”
He glowered at her, then spat at her feet before turning to walk away. His hulking body cast a misshapen black shadow on the ground, as if a beast, instead of a man, crossed the village square. The two women watched himleave.
