The Dragon Seed Box Set

by Resa Nelson

  “There you go with your mumbo jumbo again,” Claude said. “It’s a wolf. A wild animal, and a dangerous one at that. What are you thinking?”

  Thurid smiled. “I’m thinking we’ll nurse it with a rag soaked in cow’s milk. That’s what I did with my little sister when our mother died. Our village had no wet nurse, and that cow’s milk kept my sister alive. It’ll do the same for this wee one.”

  “Grey-Eyes,” Benzel said. “His name is Grey-Eyes.”

  “Grey-Eyes,” Claude said in a mimicking voice. “Now we’re naming wild animals that we plan to help grow up so they’re big and strong enough to kill us?”

  “Hush,” Thurid told her husband. “No one’s killing anyone.” She rocked the sleeping cub in her arms.

  “The dragon killed his mother and all her other pups,” Benzel said.

  “I see,” Thurid said. “Just like what happened to you. Except for you it was berserkers, not a dragon.”

  The merchant all but smacked himself in the head. “That’s why you insist on carrying around a wild animal like it’s a baby? That’s nonsense!”

  Benzel considered their words.

  I suppose Grey-Eyes and I have more in common than I have with anybody else. Other than Snip.

  When Benzel reached for Grey-Eyes, Thurid handed him back. “Don’t worry about feeding him,” she said. “I’ll get that sorted out right away.”

  “What about getting back to Hidden Glen?” Benzel said. “My horse ran away with the cart. It happened when we weren’t too far from Gott, but it’s too far to walk to Hidden Glen. Who can I see about getting back home?”

  Thurid crossed her arms and turned to her husband. “You haven’t explained it to him?”

  Claude waved his hands about when he spoke as if chasing away a swarm of angry bees. “Who gave me the chance to explain? First, there’s the fact he’s hauling around a wild animal that could maul us to death.”

  Thurid choked back a laugh.

  It riled the merchant, and he waved his hands about even more. “Then you step in with your mumbo jumbo. And no one’s listening to me anyway, so what’s the point in trying to explain anything?”

  “I don’t understand,” Benzel said. “I did everything Sinchetto asked. I brought his sword to you. I told you how he met his end and what I had to do with it. Sinchetto said there are rules for when a dragonslayer dies. He said you would take care of it.”

  “And I will,” the merchant said. “But you’re now part of it. The rules say that whoever kills a dragonslayer out of mercy must travel the winter route and join those who select the next dragonslayer.”

  “The winter route?” Benzel said. “But that goes down to the Midlands and beyond. The winter route goes all the way to the Southlands!” He thought about all he’d be leaving behind and what he needed to tell his family. “I have to go back to Hidden Glen first.”

  “No time,” Claude said. “There’s no time to waste in selecting a new dragonslayer.”

  “But I have to tell Uncle Kjartan and Auntie Helga and Snip!”

  “I’ll have someone send word so they don’t wonder what happened to you,” Thurid said. “But my husband speaks the truth. It’s not just Hidden Glen that depended on Sinchetto. It’s dozens of villages along his route throughout the Midlands and Southlands as well as the Northlands. That means hundreds of people are at risk until we can get to the Midlands and send a temporary dragonslayer to cover Sinchetto’s route. Then we must go to the Southlands and find a new and permanent dragonslayer to take Sinchetto’s place. We must leave at once.”

  The merchant pointed at Grey-Eyes. “But that thing has to stay behind.”

  Before Benzel could protest, Thurid beat him to it. “Nonsense!” Thurid said. “Until now, everyone knew the story of Heatherbloom and the boy who escaped the murderous berserkers. Those who knew his name knew him as Benzel of Heatherbloom. The pup must come with us because it’s proof that Benzel is no longer a boy but a man. A man who survived not just a berserker attack long ago, but the attack of a dragon that mortally wounded its slayer. A man with the courage to do what must be done for the sake of mercy. A man who gave a quick end to a dragonslayer to prevent his suffering and a home to a wolf pup that would have otherwise died by now.” Thurid pointed at Benzel. “This young man is no longer Benzel of Heatherbloom. He is now Benzel of the Wolf.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Until his brief travels with Sinchetto, Benzel had never traveled beyond the villages of Heatherbloom, Bubblebrook, and Hidden Glen, much less outside the country of the Northlands. He imagined a journey to the Southlands would take a few weeks, followed by a week or so in which a new dragonslayer would be selected. He believed he’d be back home within the next few months.

  The next morning, Claude packed up his goods, gathered his crew from the local taverns, and set sail with Thurid, their daughters, Benzel, and Grey-Eyes. As soon as they arrived in the large port city of the Midlands, the weapon merchant then released most of his crew and traded his larger ocean vessel for a small Northlander ship better suited to navigate the rivers from the Midlands to the Southlands.

  While the weapon merchant conducted the business of recruiting from the few dragonslayers assigned to the Midlands as Sinchetto’s temporary replacement in the Northlands, Benzel wandered the streets of the Midlands port city with Grey-Eyes tucked under one arm. Following Thurid’s advice, Benzel traded for some cow’s milk to feed the wolf pup. Benzel followed Sinchetto’s advice to wear every silver ring and bracelet he earned as a matter of safe-keeping. A small, simple ring bought plenty of cow’s milk for Grey-Eyes and food for everyone else in Benzel’s party.

  Back home, the sight of Benzel walking around with a wolf pup tucked under his arm would have drawn a crowd and a good peppering of questions. Even in Gott, Grey-Eyes had drawn attention. But here in the crowded, noisy port city of the Midlands, no one paid much mind. The lack of attention allowed Benzel to drink in his surroundings: the musical sound of the Midlander language, the simpler style of dress, and the rich scents of spices and exotic foods being marketed at the seaport.

  Later that day, Benzel set sail with Claude, his family, and the down-sized crew on a river through the Midlands. Throughout the voyage, Benzel noticed how every day appeared lighter and brighter. Every day the sun brought more warmth. By the time the ship arrived in the most southern region of the Southlands, the days were warmer than any Benzel had ever known.

  The crew guided the ship along the river to its mouth, where it opened up to the sea and a port city. While the crew stayed behind with the ship, Claude arranged for the loan of a horse-driven cart to take them to the next village where simple stone houses jammed against each other on narrow cobblestone streets. Thurid watched in delight as the bumpy ride rocked her three little girls to sleep.

  “This is where we’ll find the next dragonslayer?” Benzel said to Claude.

  “Not quite,” Claude said. He pointed at a distant hill. “It’s there.”

  A stone manor stood on the distant hill, dotted with grazing sheep. Although the manor stood three stories high, its narrow width made it look smaller than its true size. On the left side a slim tower stretched double the height of the manor. A great iron flower adorned the top of the tower so that the home looked like a huge toad shooting its tongue skyward to catch a blossom floating on the breeze.

  Astonished at the sight of such a house and the cost required to build it, Benzel gaped at it in wonder. “Who lives there?”

  “The greatest and kindest man in the Southlands.” Claude said. “He oversees the training of all dragonslayers. That home and all the land around it belong to Master Paldi and his family.”

  “Master Paldi?” Benzel said. “Never heard of him.”

  Claude grinned. “You’re not meant to. The only foreigners known to Northlanders are dragonslayers. It keeps us Midlanders as well as Southlanders feeling safe from berserkers.” He shrugged. “Whether it works or not is another matter.”

/>   When Claude pulled the cart up to the front door of the great mansion, servants rushed to greet them. When one offered a hand to help Thurid descend from the cart, she shook her head and stayed put.

  A man wearing clothes simple in style but finely tailored stepped toward the cart. “Claude! Welcome back.”

  The weapon merchant hopped to the ground, and his face lit up. “Master Paldi. You remember me.”

  The master of the manor embraced the weapon merchant. “Of course, Claude. You and your family are always welcome.”

  Claude shook his head in wonder. “You’ve always been good to my folks. It’s been years since I’ve seen you. I wasn’t even full grown back then.”

  Master Paldi grinned. “You and me both.” He looked at Thurid and the sleeping girls in the cart. “And now you have a family of your own?”

  Claude beamed. “My wife, Thurid. Our girls, Bee, Fee, and Glee.”

  Master Paldi raised an eyebrow. “Thurid, that’s a Northlander name. And your girls. You named them after alchemists?”

  Thurid sat on the edge of the cart, keeping her feet inside. “That’s right. I know many aren’t comfortable in the presence of alchemists. It’s no trouble for me and the girls to stay here if it makes you happy.”

  Master Paldi burst out laughing. “Nonsense!” He turned toward Thurid with outstretched arms. “Let me help you down. Come inside and you’ll find out why you’re welcome here.”

  With a grin, Thurid swung her legs around and accepted the master’s help jumping down from the cart. She looked back. “And our girls? They’ve been sleeping so well that I hate to wake them.”

  “I’ve got a young one of my own,” Master Paldi said. “Young Antoni. He’s napping in the nursery, and there’s plenty of room for your girls. My servants can take them there.”

  Benzel climbed out of the cart with an alert Grey-Eyes squirming in his arms.

  The servants took a few steps back in alarm, but Master Paldi stayed in place. “What do we have here?”

  Before Claude could open his mouth, Thurid spoke up. “You might have heard of him. Most have known him as Benzel of Heatherbloom.”

  Master Paldi paled. “Heatherbloom. Yes. You’re known here, Benzel.”

  “Most recently,” Thurid continued, “Benzel traveled with Sinchetto. A dragon attacked them and gave Sinchetto a mortal wound. He asked Benzel to perform the Act of Mercy.”

  “I see,” Master Paldi said. His voice cracked.

  Benzel couldn’t tell if the master felt heartbreak or fear.

  “This wolf pup,” Thurid continued, “was the only other survivor.”

  “His name is Grey-Eyes,” Benzel said. “And he showed courage in standing up to the dragon and trying to fight it.”

  Master Paldi gave a weak smile and offered the back of his hand for Grey-Eyes to sniff. “That’s great courage for one so young.” He looked at Benzel. “Like the boy who hid from the berserkers in Heatherbloom and then saved the life of a baby girl in Bubblebrook.”

  Grey-Eyes took care in sniffing the master’s hand but then offered a look of approval.

  “All beings who show courage are welcome in my home,” Master Paldi said. “Man and beast alike.”

  Keeping Grey-Eyes in hand, Benzel followed the master inside his mansion along with Claude and Thurid. They walked through a series of spacious rooms, each one well-appointed with thick, heavy furniture carved from dark wood. Sunlight streamed through tall windows. Wide fireplaces stood empty in the warm air, but the blackening inside them showed signs that they often blazed with flames.

  Master Paldi stopped in a large dining hall, dominated by a long wooden table and benches. Tapestries illustrated with scenes showing fanciful creatures in lush landscapes lined the walls. A large empty space stood among them.

  Benzel admired the size of the room. He imagined their conversation would echo inside. Despite the warmth of the day, he shuddered at the chill of the stone floor that seeped through the thin soles of his leather shoes.

  Thurid pointed at the empty space on the wall. “Is that reserved for something new?”

  Master Paldi nodded and led the way to an adjacent room where dozens of women sat on the floor, at work on creating a new tapestry. “It’s meant to show history, especially that of my family.”

  Benzel stared at the partial tapestry. Although a good portion of it looked completed, the size wasn’t nearly large enough to fill the empty space they’d just seen. “How big will it be?”

  “Much bigger than it is now.” Master Paldi pointed at one corner. “Notice the map. It includes your Northlands.”

  Peering closer, Benzel said, “Which is it?”

  “Here,” a tapestry worker said. She waved her hand across a long and narrow outline of land surrounded by ocean. “Here’s the Midlands beneath it and the Southlands beneath the Midlands.”

  “Look,” Claude said, pointing at a different section. “Is that the first dragonslayer? They say he still lives today!”

  “It is indeed our first dragonslayer,” Master Paldi said. “But don’t believe the rumors that he still lives. His son now works in his place.” Master Paldi winked. “A son who is the man’s spitting image.”

  The worker who had pointed out the map on the tapestry poured a yellow powder from a bottle on the floor next to her. She rolled the powder in her hands to coat them. She picked up a loose thread from the tapestry-in-progress and held onto it for several moments. When she released it, the thread glowed like gold.

  “Alchemy!” Thurid said. “She’s working magic into the tapestry.” She turned to the master. “That’s why you didn’t mind my presence in your manor. You’re already working with alchemists.”

  “As a precaution of safety,” Master Paldi said. “My family and these workers will know of it. And now you. Our enemies will not.”

  “Safety?” Claude said. “From what?”

  “Attack. The alchemists sense one might happen against my home and all of Bellesguard. But it’s an attack that could be years away. That gives us time to prepare.”

  Benzel’s heart quickened. “An attack? From berserkers?”

  “No one knows,” Master Paldi said. “It’s possible, but it also could be Southlanders. I’ve heard one man say he believes it could come from the Far East.”

  “That seems unlikely,” Claude said. “They keep to themselves. I’ve heard rumors that no one lives in the Far East and its people are nothing more than imagined beings.”

  “Or ghosts,” Thurid said. When everyone turned to her in surprise, she said, “It’s what the alchemists believe.”

  The glowing gold thread caught Benzel’s attention when he recognized its location. He pointed at it. “What is that? In gold?”

  Master Paldi nodded. “That’s part of what the alchemists have detected. There are signs that a golden tower will arise out of the sea.”

  “But look,” Benzel said, stepping closer to the tapestry. “The gold thread. It’s off the coast of the Northlands. There’s no island in that spot.”

  “Not yet,” Master Paldi said.

  Grey-Eyes squirmed so fiercely that Benzel placed him on the floor. The wolf pup sniffed intently at it. When he circled around Benzel’s feet, the pup’s claws clattered against the floor.

  As long as you’re here,” Master Paldi said, “I’d appreciate your help in defending my home.”

  “I can’t stay that long,” Benzel said. “They’re waiting for me back home and expect me to return soon. If a new dragonslayer is assigned today, we can leave by morning.”

  Master Paldi gave a sharp look at Claude. “You didn’t tell him?”

  “It didn’t come up,” Claude said. “And how was I to know the alchemists think an attack could be coming?”

  “I don’t understand,” Benzel said.

  “Assigning a new dragonslayer is nothing to be taken lightly,” Master Paldi said. “It’s a task that must be done with time and care. And because you performed the Act of Mercy
for Sinchetto, our law says you must participate fully in the choosing.”

  “That part I know,” Benzel said.

  “Training dragonslayers takes a great deal of time,” Master Paldi said. “And the possibility of a future attack makes it necessary to pull all potential dragonslayers out of that training so they can learn how to fight men instead of dragons. Those types of training are so different that one must think in an opposite way. Once the attack ends—assuming we can defend Bellesguard with success—then the potential dragonslayers must forget how they’ve learned to fight men and start their own training from the beginning.”

  Grey-Eyes looked up with a sharp yip.

  “What are you telling me?” Benzel said.

  “You won’t be leaving tomorrow,” Master Paldi said. “Because you’ll be in Bellesguard for years to come.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The emperor’s wife woke up in terror in the bed she shared with her husband in the royal palace in the city of Zangcheen in the Wulong Province of the Far East. She shuddered at the sensation of her pounding heart but focused on remembering the details of the nightmare that had forced her to wake. She shook her husband’s still-sleeping body. “Help me!” she whispered.

  Emperor Renzong Po woke with a start. “What’s wrong?” For 900 years, the Po family had ruled the Wulong Province, and he considered himself to be one pearl on a string of many. His greatest purpose was keeping the Po family in good stead as rulers.

  “A nightmare,” the empress said. “Take me to the royal astrologer at once!”

  Emperor Po sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Pale light made it possible for him to see, which meant the sun would soon rise. The tall windows in their expansive bedroom were open to let in the cool night air, and the silk curtains covering them puffed and billowed with the incoming breeze. Jasmine from the royal garden permeated the air. “The astrologer? Why?”