Dragonflies

      "If I had a talent, even the wolves in the forest would come out to worship me," Nagar announced.
      Sameth stepped over into the opposing wheel track and said nothing. He knew what would come next. This gang of boys had humiliated him most of his life, and this was always how it started. They skipped ahead, sticking their thumbs into their ears and fluttering their fingers, imitating the noises of the creatures Sameth could move.
      "Or maybe hawks. Don't you wish you could talk to hawks, Sameth?" Nagar too bounded ahead, blocking the path of the younger boy.
      Sameth paused. "No. I don't." He twisted off the wagon trail and into the high grass to go around the boy. The bully reached a stealthy leg out into the weeds to trip Sameth, who, realizing the ploy, moved farther away. Nagar fell over clutching his shin, mock tears already flying from his eyes.
      "Sameth! How dare you kick me! You know that the gifted cannot abuse their power!" He quickly quoted the old law, so meaningless to him.
      The other boys, waiting for this, did not pause to hear Sameth's side of the story. They fell upon him at once, even though he had done Nagar no harm. They took out their frustrations upon Sameth. All the money they'd watched their siblings earn for being able to ease a lamb's birthing, for every time other children charmed each pup in a litter away from them. The gifted boy who wasted his gift, who could only talk to dragonflies, was fair game.
      A nose peeked through the weeds at the noise. Sila's father's farm was out here as well; and when she saw the other boys toppling Sameth, she let out a god-awful yelp. In the distance, answering cries came, and the sounds of large creatures shoving aside their weight in dead grass was soon heard. She stood there, pointing silently at the tussle of cloth and boys. Ten muzzles poked through the tall grass, followed by large hungry-looking dogs. Their alpha jumped into the fray, squashing all the boys equally. He then picked off boy after boy, plucking them from the pile, and tossing them aside, the muscles in his neck bulging as he flung the wild boys into the roadside. Soon only Sameth lay below, caged by four strong legs. The alpha leaned over and licked Sameth's exposed neck. Then he reared his awesome head and snarled at the other boys, who lay where they landed or stood quietly shivering in fear. The pack echoed his snarl, and the smell of urine stung the air as one of the gang wet his pants in terror. Sila howled softly, drawing the large dogs to her side, and she glared at the gang.
      "Never do 'hat 'gain! Never!" She waggled a finger, her tiny lisp echoed by the growl of ten throats that ordered the cluster of boys back in no uncertain terms. Nagar ran off first, calling back "Saved by a girl! Saved by a girl!" trying to shame Sameth to the very last. Sila helped Sameth off the ground, and the alpha came over to lick the boy again. She looked at him gravely.
      "Next time you need help, howl."
      She and the pack melted into the high grasses, heading back towards the farm where they tended massive herds of sheep.
      Instead of going home, he wandered down to the bank of the lake. Sitting down, he skipped stones across the glassy water. The dragonflies, always excited to see him, hovered nearby, casting shadows on the ground. They spent all their time breeding, locked tail to tail, hovering in the non-wind. He frequently tried to talk to them, but they were always busy.
      "What do you do?" He yelled at them in frustration, fingering the fresh bruise on his arm. We grow and we grow and we grow. Hundreds of tiny minds echoed the same answer at him, from all directions, metallically.
      "Why?" He beat a fist against the water, wanting some better answer then this.
      Because we must, because we must. Grow! More! Many!
      At this, he tossed a rock into their midst, deliberately. They parted to let it pass and then continued along their individual paths, and he no longer held their attention. He left the lake edge that day, and swore to not return. He would live his life as a normal boy, grow up to be a normal man, and the town would forget that he'd ever even had a talent. The next day, he found out that flaming arrows shot from a distance had burned down Sila's family barn. The talentless boys had all been punished with public whippings while Nagar had run away. Even so, his mind was made up. He would be normal.
      He eventually married Sila, and when his dad passed on, they lived inside his old house. His mother helped watch the children, and he tilled the soil when it was time, until the calluses on his hands would never come off, not even if he became king right then and there and never had to work a hoe again. Sila tended herds with her pack of dogs, and sold the best-trained dogs for miles around.
      He was twenty-five when the messenger came to town. Sila invited the man inside, as was custom. After Sameth had fed him, the tired-looking man leaned over the table and heaved a great sigh. "I'm gonna announce this here tomorrow, might as well tell you tonight."
      Sameth shrugged. "You don't have to tell us anything that you don't feel like, stranger."
      The man snorted softly, "It's kinda 'portant to here. There's an army coming this way."
      Sameth's eyes bugged out. "What?!" He slammed his mug down on the table. "You'd best not be joking, stranger."
      The other man shook his burly head. "I wish I were. You've heard of the Northlanders, yes?"
      It was Sila's turn to snort, "Old man, we're at peace with them." Her alpha, speckled with gray but still strong, rested his head in her lap.
      "Aye, we were. Till they decided that they wanted our land. Your town seems to be in their path, in fact. It may even be their destination. King Nagar..."
      Both Sameth and Sila's jaws dropped. "King Nagar?" they queried, simultaneously. "No..." Sameth looked at Sila, and she replied, "It couldn't be." From under the table, the alpha growled, picking up on the tension in the room.
      "We had a treaty with the old king," the stranger said, "but he's dead now. Most say some wrong was done him too, he was only 40, a young 40...anyhow, with this new king, why, he seems to be able to make men do things. There's all this talk of magic..." He stopped. "I'm gossiping, and I shouldn't be. I'm supposed to tell your town's elders that he's on his way, and to prepare."
      Sila's eyes squinted. "Prepare for what?"
      The man shuffled his feet, and leaned back in his chair, distancing himself from the two of them. "A new treaty is being hammered out. And for some odd reason, King Nagar has requested the topmost track of land, this way," he gestured, slicing the air with one hand, "only ten leagues worth. So all your town has to do is relocate, about five leagues that way." He pointed. "And all should be fine."
      "And our king agreed to this?" Sameth spluttered.
      The messenger opened his empty hands. "Yes, good sir, it seems he did, even donated his royal park space for your people's move. All you need do is relocate." His eyes pleaded. "You are nice folk. Don't get trampled for some meaningless line."
      "But this is our home!" Sameth smacked his open palm on the table, and the alpha barked at the stranger, deciding he was the cause of this commotion. Sila restrained her pet, soothing him with warm fingers, using the same soft touch she did with Sameth during other times.
      They gave the man bedding and a place in the barn. They went to bed quietly, Sameth holding Sila, and the alpha kept watch at the door.
      The town was abuzz with the news the next day. Some wanted to leave, some wanted to fight, all felt betrayed by the country that had held them close just a day before. Sameth knew even before the town came to a consensus that he would be one of the ones to stay. Sila didn't question this, but prepared a cart full of food and clothing. On the day after, Sameth sent his mother and their children with the other refugees in this cart. Sila silently pointed to the cart, and the alpha leapt inside. The horse balked, but Sameth's mother reined him in quickly, maybe too hard, while fighting tears. Perhaps at a time like this a small bit of violence was acceptable.
      "You...you watch them. If anyone...anyone..." she broke down in tears, and the alpha whined apologetically, but stayed, already on guard. Sameth shielded her in his shoulder until the cart was out of sight. He breathed a prayer to the Gods for his mother and his children, and then took his wife back into their home. He didn't know how he was going to protect her, or their farm. Her dogs would do all they could, he was sure of it, but he didn't know how they could survive an army. He saddled up a horse and rode into town, making a tally of who was staying and who was not.
      Only the stubborn and the old wanted to stay. The young left easily, bending without a snap. Everyone knew someone who was staying and all staying were trying their best to send their loved ones away. There was no plan for protection or attack. Some spoke of writing treaties, or giving payment. Others tried to make spears, and the blacksmith was doing the best business of his life.
      Sameth took the long way home, and his path almost involuntarily wound past the lake. The dragonflies still rushed to meet him, though he knew that none alive could possibly remember his last time there. They zoomed so close that he could feel their wing beats brushing his cheek. Lying down in the dew of sunset, he gave himself up to them, letting them alight on his body, feeling the gentle pricks of their multi-clawed feet scrabbling for a hold. They were longer than his hand and the jaws that could rend small birds nibbled at his cheek.
      We grow, we grow, we grow. They were so eager to inform him that he was startled by their minds.
      Grow, many, more, many, more, grow!
      He smiled at their intrusions, and sank into their humming, welcoming silence for himself in the deafness made by wing noise. Sameth found that he missed them. He hadn't known it, but for ten years, he had missed them. Their simple lives fascinated him as a child, and now, going home to an empty house and a mournful wife, he drank deep from the well of calmness that the 'flies created. He was ashamed that he'd left them alone for so long, when embarrassed that he could only talk to what most people considered pests.
      When the sun dipped down and he'd had his fill of their company he stood, untied his horse, and pulled himself up into the saddle. The dragonflies deftly avoided his horse's tail while darting up as if to kiss him one last time. Nudging his horse, he brought it back to the road. He listened wistfully to the last remnants of their song behind him.
      We grow!
      The next day he visited the blacksmith himself. He purchased a sword and an axe with barrels full of seed corn, and three ewes. The smithy was loading up his sturdy wagon full of tools and all the booty he'd bargained for recently. Sameth was lucky to catch him in time.
      He took the weapons home, and showed them to Sila, who was noncommittal. Her mind was almost totally out with her dogs, as they raced across the border, trying to scent the army on the wind. He made dinner that night, knowing that she couldn't possibly do both things at once, and watched her with wonder. Did her dogs talk to her? What did she share with them? He'd never asked, but now sudden curiosity assailed him. Did she feel their pain? Their loves? Hates? Sameth shook these thoughts out of his head. Now was not the time to ask.
      Sometime late that night, Sila woke with a start. "There they are!"
      "How far?"
      "A days run for Shag...so a perhaps three days for an army. He..." she concentrated, "he says they smell of drink, and stink." She giggled. "He's surprised that the other dogs couldn't scent them from home." Sila paused, and then laughed aloud. "And now he's all worried about the litter." Sameth grinned, enjoying this sudden insight into his wife's mind. He grabbed a pup by the scruff of its sleepy neck, and plopped it into Sila's lap.
      "Tell Shag the litter's fine, and to keep a careful watch from a distance." Sila smiled up at him, and planted the puppy near her face on the pillow, falling slowly back asleep to its rhythmic breathing and the aroma of puppy breath.
      In two days time all the dogs were home except for Shag, who was monitoring the army, and living off small wild rabbits. Sameth still didn't know what to do, or how exactly he was going to protect their homestead. Sila was preoccupied with the dogs guarding the perimeter of their lands. For now they just waited.
      Late that night, the barking of the dogs alerted them. Sila ran outside first, immediately knowing where to go. Sameth followed, feeling helpless. The dogs had taken down a scout. He was pinned on all limbs by angry-looking canines.
      "Please! Let me go!" Terror shone in his eyes, and he looked like he was trying to escape his own skin to get away from the dogs.
      Sila spat in his face. "Why do you come here? This is our home! Go back to your lands!" She picked up a rock and was about to hurl it down on the man when Sameth caught her arm. He looked down at the man.
      "Answer her."
      The scout swallowed. "We...we have no choice. We know that this makes no sense, and that we have no quarrel with you, but we must fight, we must!" He choked this out, shaking his head from side to side wildly. "Our king...he makes us...we must..." The man blanked out. Slowly the dogs released him, and Sameth heaved him over his shoulder to carry home. They tied him securely, set a pup watch at his feet, and again went back to waiting. The man came to in an hour, shivering softly. The pup howled plaintively, and Sameth came inside to ask the man more questions.
      "Why must you fight?"
      "I don't know...none of us do. It's like we're being convinced that we must. Something inside tells us to, and we can't help but follow its commands."
      "Your king, he does this?"
      The scout nodded. Sila came and placed a plate of food down for the pup. The man's mouth watered, Sila was sure, but he asked for nothing.
      "Sila...could it be that Nagar was gifted?" Sameth looked at his woman, hoping that she'd dismiss his idea completely.
      She rocked in place, thinking. "Maybe. That would explain much. If he could convince men...if this Nagar is really him." Her words drifted, as her eyes caught his. "That would explain him attacking us."
      Sameth made a face. "Surely he has forgotten about me."
      She grinned and stuck her tongue out. "Probably. You're easily forgotten." She reached over and pinched his arm, teasingly. "But here is the only place where gifted children are ever born. If he makes us leave this place, our home, he can make sure that there are no more of us who might later equal him."
      Sameth grimly nodded. "Who would have guessed that he'd even still be alive, after running away into the mountains."
      The scout looked from face to face, hesitating to speak. "I could deliver a message for you to him. I am sure that if you just but move, he'll not attack."
      Sila dismissed this with a shake of her head. "And what, lose the chance to have another gifted child?" She rested her hand across her stomach. "I refuse."
      "He might be able to convince you into it..."
      Sameth raised his hand. "He can't convince us, I don't think. If he could, he'd have done it long ago." He pushed thick fingers through his already graying hair. A stirring rose inside him, millions of voices, requesting his presence. He looked to his wife, startled. "I...I'll be back."
      Sila raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. If her man said he'd be back, he'd be back.
      Sameth ran as fast as he could to the lake's edge. The dragonflies were waiting for him.
      Home! Home! Home! Home!
      "Who's home? My home?" Sameth yelled out into fluttering mass of dragonflies.
      People! Anger, anger, anger!
      "I don't understand!" The 'flies swirled around him, a living tornado. He became dizzy and backed up, tripping to the ground.
      Stay, stay. Stay! STAY!
      Their metallic voices made his head reel with their urgency, but always under their frustrating commands, he could hear the familiar undercurrent of more, grow, many, more. He shook his head, trying to get their voices out, but he was surrounded so thickly by large 'flies, he found even this movement difficult to perform.
      Help, help! We help!
      Help? How could dragonflies help against an army? Unless...
      An image formed in his mind. An impossible, outrageous image, and yet hope kindled within him. Quickly, before doubt could take hold, he projected the image to the 'flies and waited.
      One by one, the cloud of dragonflies clamped onto his skin with claws and mandibles. He suppressed the urge to wipe them off. He could no longer feel his clothing over himself; perhaps the millions of pairs of jaws had scissored the fabric off completely. Wave upon wave coated him, swallowed him up, and clung to each other once they could no longer cling to him. Sameth grit his teeth to stop from screaming. He was afraid, but he was sure that they wouldn't hurt him, even though they tugged at his skin roughly, back and forth. He gave himself over to the dragonflies, incapable of doing much else.
      He found he could see. His eyes told him that they were closed, but still, somehow, he could see. It was blurry and confusing, everywhere at once. He could see the pond ahead of him, but also the trees behind. He knew without asking that it was their eyes that he was seeing through, hundreds upon hundreds of facets. The buzzing of their wings remained in his ears, and always the more, many, more, grow. Still, he waited. Clouds of dragonflies from distant ponds appeared over the tree-line. They descended as well, collecting on his amorphous body, nipping into their brethren, searching for a hold.
      Sameth felt the heat of thousands of bodies writhing around him. At last, he spread out his arms, arms that now spanned forty feet across, arms comprised of millions of individual dragonflies. He willed himself aloft, and the arms, no, the wings propelled him. Pain stung through him, and sang in his nerves. Each of the 'flies must be tugging up a fractional portion of his body, he thought, because he could hear every inch of his body complain. He hovered in the air, just above the trees, and he looked to the north. Far in the distance, a million creatures could smell a touch of campfire smoke. He aimed himself, them, that way, and so they went.
      It didn't take long for them to reach the campsite set up by the Northlanders. Sameth imagined he must look like a huge bat in the skies, but found out differently when the northerners spotted him. "Dragon!" they called, in fear, and ran cowering for the trees. Sameth laughed inside himself, finding their name for the shape he'd caused the dragonflies to form ruefully fitting.
      He lowered his weightless bulk to the ground and looked about. Always the outer layer of 'flies was reassembling itself, letting go, zipping off on a short reconnaissance mission, zipping back to report, now a part of the neck of the misshapen creature he'd become, now a part of the tail. Sameth was numb to the pain of their footholds. He lurched forward awkwardly, waiting for some 'fly to return to tell him where the main camp was. Again somehow, he knew that the camp was further west. He couldn't identify which 'fly had come back with this information, or how the knowledge filtered through the clusters of 'flies arguing for his mind's attention. Yet he knew.
      Taking off again, stretching his arm-wings wide he veered over to the west. The men below scattered. At the main camp a wide fabric pavilion stood, surrounded by guards. At the guards shouted exclamations, a man emerged from the tent. Although the years had passed between them, Sameth could still spot Nagar's shock of black hair and sharp nose.
      A guard flung a spear at him, and it pierced his arm-wing cleanly, flying out the far side, its course unchanged. The guards flung themselves to the ground and began to pray to their Gods, asking for help against the demon dragon. Sameth wondered how long it'd be before they'd realize that an immaterial dragon that couldn't be punctured by spears probably couldn't do anything to them.
      He felt himself drift downward slowly and relaxed, readying himself to land. It was only then that he could hear the cries of Nagar.
      "Sameth! SAMETH! I know you're in there! Come out and face me!" Sameth issued a command, and the dragonflies about him parted, revealing his body, freeing his face from their tugs. Sameth was sure he looked red and swollen but knew that Nagar would recognize him.
      "What are you doing to our people?" Sameth called, deaf from the buzzing.
      "These are my people now!" Nagar pointed to the men squirming on the ground in fear. "Your people must move! There can never be another with my gift!"
      Sameth curled his lip and spat. "What gift is that? The gift to drive men mad? As mad as you must be?"
      Nagar laughed. "Sameth, I am a king here! Do you understand that? A king! And I will build my palace on your ancestral grounds, and only my children will bear the gift!" He kicked a guard lying nearest, and pointed to Sameth. "Kill him!"
      The guard picked up his sword and eyed the swarming mass around Sameth. Now dispersed, Sameth didn't seem half so frightening as before. He hefted the weapon above his head and ran headlong into the cluster, aiming his point at Sameth's heart. A cluster of dragonflies parted and circled around the guard blocking him from Sameth's sight. He sensed their anger and could feel it directed at the hapless guard. A scream of terror began but was then stifled quickly as the man's mouth filled with 'flies. Sameth winced, wishing he didn't know what was happening to the man. In less then a minute, it was over. The curtain of 'flies pulled back to reveal a swollen corpse choked by the large insects and dripping blood from multiple bites.
      Nagar's face flushed with shock and horror. He turned and ran from the swarm into the forest. Behind him, his echoed mental commands swayed the weakest of his men into picking up steel against Sameth. The swarm in its totality zipped after the fleeing ruler, leaving Sameth helpless against the remaining convinced guards. He could only place his back against a tree, and look for a rock to throw. Deep in the forest, another scream wavered in the night, shattered halfway. The men who'd been so ready to attack Sameth now looked like dazed cows, trying to figure out why they were where they were. Sameth didn't give them any answers, but started walking back towards home.
      He expected the 'flies to meet him halfway, and maybe lift him back like they'd brought him to begin with, but the only friendly creature he crossed on the way home was Shag.
      "You tell Sila I'm fine, ok? Tell her Shag?" The dog merely lolled its tongue out a bit further, and Sameth didn't know if he forwarded the message or not. He struggled through the underbrush for hours in the dark, led by the ever-energetic Shag, and found himself looking at his town by the next noon. Exhausted, freezing because he wore no clothes, and extremely sore from the bites and clawings, he drug himself closer to home. Sila rounded the bend with a pull-cart, rushing out to meet him.
      "Shag said you looked bad...but this? Sameth, what've you been into?" She turned about him, examining his current state. "Looks like you've got the pox again, but that can't be, you've had it once...." She fingered one of his many scabs and he winced.
      "Just take me home, woman. I'll explain on the way."
      He sank into the pile of dogs and sheepskins happily, and told her most of his story before sleep took him. The next day the call was sent out to the other makeshift town. People started filtering back in that evening. No one was told how exactly the threat had been turned aside. Someone started the rumor that a new treaty had been signed, a rumor that most people ended up believing. Sameth took a horrible cold and couldn't speak for a week. It didn't matter. He'd been living his life as a normal man, that was what he wanted to stay.
      It wasn't until almost a month after the incident that he got a chance to go out to the lake. The dragonflies were much less in number now; winter was on the way, and they'd already done all the breeding they needed. Sameth opened his mind to them as they started to swarm.
      We grow. He could sense their pleasure in the thought. He wondered if they knew that they'd die soon, making way for another generation of large glittering 'flies.
      Wh...why did you help us? Help me?
      They landed on and off him, flickering in and out of his mind. Home.
      That's it?
      From all over the lake, he could hear their reply. Home, home, home, home, home.
      He smiled to himself, and walked back to his farm the long way, slowly, listening to their echoes, and, for once, understanding them.