Vickie Knestaut & Danny Knestaut
Hordesmen
The Wisdom of Dragons #4
First published by BL Books 2021
Copyright © 2021 by Vickie Knestaut & Danny Knestaut
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
First edition
Cover by covermint designs
For Thea,
who has the heart of a dragon
and a wisdom all her own.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Landmarks
Chapter 1
Tyber took a half step back to peer around the small cluster of women that had blocked his line of sight. As the women moved on, he glimpsed the girl again, chatting with a friend on the other side of the plaza.
Her gaze caught his, and Tyber’s heart jumped in his chest. She looked away as soon as their eyes met as if drawing her hand from a too-hot kettle. Color warmed her cheeks, already rosy from the persistent chill in the air.
Tyber glanced away himself and found the other recruits standing around him in a semicircle, watching him with raised eyebrows. They looked dashing in their dark uniforms, each cut with a scarlet sash.
Hopefully he looked that good as well.
He peered down at his uniform and the shine of his boots. A breeze stirred the hem of his black cloak.
“Tyber?” Weiss asked.
Tyber looked up as Ren turned toward the young woman. He grinned and nodded knowingly.
“Sorry,” Tyber said, falling back in line with his friends.
“Ah,” Ren said. “I see what caught your eye.”
He nudged Fang with an elbow and pointed to the young woman. Fang nodded, smiled quickly, and gave Tyber a nod of approval.
“You should go talk to her,” Ren said. “How often do they let us out of our cage, you know?”
Tyber inhaled deeply and braced himself against the suggestion.
Someone bumped into him from behind. Tyber whirled around. A man backed up, his eyes wide as he realized who he’d jostled.
“Sorry,” the man said, holding up a palm as his eyes dipped to the sash. “I wasn’t watching where I was going, sir. It won’t happen again.”
Tyber nodded, unsure of what to say. It was the third time that day they’d been treated as people of consequence. His uniform suddenly felt too tight.
Weiss barely stifled a grin as he watched the man and his companion give the recruits a wide berth. “I suppose this is why they don’t let us off the grounds until we’ve reached this point in our training.”
Tyber glanced back to the young woman. Before joining the academy, he’d never been one to be all that impressed with the recruits he saw. They’d always had too much swagger for his taste. Yet, here he was in that very uniform, hoping it would convince the young woman to give him the time of day.
She met his eyes again. A smile teased her lips before she looked back to her friend, laying a gloved hand on her companion’s arm as if they were about to turn and leave.
“Uh-oh, man,” Ren said. “You’re about to lose your mark. Act fast.”
“My mark?”
“Your chance. She’s going to walk away because she’s more interested in a man with a backbone than one with roving eyes.”
Tyber glanced at the other end of the plaza. His eyes played through the crowd quickly, looking for Nather or his friends. Tyber hadn’t seen them since he and Rius came close to roasting Nather alive.
“Like you’re an expert on women,” Weiss spat.
“Ask your mother.”
“Hey!” Lambert snapped. “Easy. You want to fix it so they never let us off the grounds again?”
Tyber turned back to the group as Weiss lowered his fist. Fang left Ren’s side and quickly approached the young woman and her friend, his cloak filling out with the wind of his motion and the breeze in the plaza.
Ren chuckled and shook his head. “Too late for you, man. Fang is on the prowl now.”
“Fang?” Weiss asked. “What’s he going to do? Impress her with an awkward silence?”
Ren shook his head. “Just wait and see, man. Watch the master work his magic.”
“The master?” Weiss asked.
“Magic,” Lambert chuckled as he folded his arms over his chest. “Yeah, this I got to see.”
“And you, Ty,” Ren said. “You better pay special attention if you ever hope to impress any girl who is not covered in scales.”
Heat flashed over Tyber’s face again as Fang joined the young woman and her companion. They smiled as Fang bowed slightly, sweeping his arm before himself. He gestured back at the wing of recruits. The young woman’s gaze settled on Tyber again, and then bounced back to Fang.
The bustle of the crowd concealed Fang’s words. The companion laughed before covering her mouth with her hand. The young woman spoke to her friend, then looked back to Fang before gesturing toward the palace that loomed beyond the northern end of the plaza.
Fang nodded, then pointed in the direction of the academy.
The young woman’s face lit up, and she clutched her hands before herself. She spoke rapidly and looked at Tyber twice more.
“Wow,” Ren muttered. “He is good.”
“What?” Weiss asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Shush!” Ren said with a wave of his hand. “Listen and learn. Watch and grow wise, my friend.”
“You’re crazy,” Weiss said. “Just completely nuts.”
The young woman grasped her companion’s arm just above the elbow. She was staring at Tyber again, then she looked back to Fang. She said something more, then nodded.
Fang started walking back to his friends, the young women in tow.
Tyber’s jaw clenched. Dampness broke out under his arms and across his palms. He turned to Ren. “What’s he doing?”
Ren chuckled. “Being a pal, man. Being a pal. You better think of something not stupid to say, and you better think of it quick.”
Tyber snapped his attention back to the young women. They appeared to materialize out of nowhere, suddenly near as Fang led them to Tyber.
“Tyber,” Fang said with a gesture, then moved on to the rest of the recruits in the wing. “Quall, Ren, Lambert, Weiss, Geoff, Rogerius, and Aunger.”
“Hi,” Lambert said, holding up a thick palm and giving a goofy grin.
“This is Isobel and her friend, Allie,” Fang said, gesturing at the young woman, then her companion. “They are out shopping this fine morning.”
Tyber opened his mouth, but every word on his tongue felt stupid an
d wrong.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on dragons?” Isobel asked Tyber, then looked across the others, inviting any of them to answer the question.
“Yes,” Tyber barked. His cheeks grew hot. How stupid to race to be the first to answer. He sure knew how to look desperate and pathetic.
Isobel turned back to him. A slight smile played over her lips. “Then why aren’t you?”
Tyber leaned forward slightly. “Why aren’t we what?”
Ren hissed.
Isobel’s smile broadened into a grin. Her eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun. “On your dragons, silly.”
The bottom fell out of Tyber’s stomach and took every possible response with it. He opened his mouth, and the words, My dragon’s name is Rius, threatened to rush out and crush any chance he had of impressing Isobel, or any woman for that matter.
The peal of a bell rolled through the plaza.
Everyone looked toward Gods’ Reach. The bell continued, but not as crisp as the bell in the high tower when it rang.
“That’s the recruits’ bell!” Weiss turned in the direction of the academy.
“So much for an afternoon off,” Ren groaned.
“Sorry,” Fang said to Isobel and Allie.
“Duty calls, does it? Well, it was nice to meet you,” Isobel said, looking directly at Tyber, then across the other recruits. “All of you.”
“Come on! Move it!” Weiss barked, then clapped his hands once.
Tyber spun toward the academy. At least he’d been spared the embarrassment of having to speak.
Chapter 2
“What is this all about?” Ren called as the boys hurried through the crowd.
“Master Groal must have known we were about to get in trouble,” Weiss answered.
“Ha! Like you’d get the opportunity,” Ren said with a laugh. “You wouldn’t know trouble if it sat on you.”
As the crowd thinned out, the boys picked up their pace, exiting the plaza and racing through alleys and avenues, cutting around carts loaded sparsely with rotting beets or turnips or onions. Tyber’s gaze caught on a mule, its ribs showing through its gray hide as it pulled a cart. Its ears flicked at some unseen agitation.
“Should have invited those ladies back to the academy for dinner,” Ren called over his shoulder to Fang.
“Groal would have loved that!” Weiss snapped back at them before rounding the corner of a building.
The bell stopped, its last toll fading over the city.
Tyber slowed several steps.
“Look out,” Geoff called as he dodged Tyber, then started around the corner. He halted suddenly, craning his neck toward the sky.
Tyber stepped up beside him. A broad swath of blue sky hung over the alley. Dragons glided over them, heading in the direction of the palace.
They weren’t colors that Tyber had seen in the royal weyr, let alone in the academy weyrs.
He turned on his heels to watch as the leg of the V formation disappeared over the roofs of the buildings.
“You guys see that?” Ren asked. “Those were Seelian dragons.”
“Seelian?” Rogerius asked.
Tyber looked from the empty sky to Ren. His friend nodded solemnly.
“Saw it plain as scales, man. They were flying their colors. The hordesmen on either side of the dragoneer were waving gold-colored flags. That’s Seelia’s color. Am I right?”
Weiss nodded. “I saw them, too. Two sheafs of wheat crossed over a yellow field. They were Seelian all right. But they were waving white flags, too.”
Ren regarded the empty sky. “A nice way to host a surprise attack.”
“What?” Weiss asked. “There was only a horde of them.”
“And how many hordes are in the mother city today?”
Weiss looked taken aback. “Three.”
“That’s why they’re calling us back,” Lambert said. “Come on. We have to go!”
He began lumbering toward the academy.
“Watch yourselves,” Ren said to the others. “It’s finally happened. Our new king has got himself a new war to replace the old one.”
Tyber looked back at Gods’ Reach. The bell at the top of the tower remained silent. Whatever was happening, the city wasn’t being called to action. Only the recruits.
The boys raced toward the academy, casting glances to the sky as if the Seelian horde might double back and unleash their arrows yet. Finally, Tyber turned a corner and saw the empty weyr yard at the end of a narrow alley. The emptiness was more troubling than if weyrboys had been rushing about, their scarlet robes fluttering around their feet as they kitted the dragons with extra quivers bristling with arrows.
Tyber panted, his heart pounding as he entered the yard. At the head of Dragon Lane, a crowd of people milled about as they often did, the end of the lane being a popular place to socialize and gawk at the dragons. They looked as puzzled as Tyber felt. A few appeared worried.
The boys rushed into the weyr. The recruits of Olsid’s wing were already sitting on their dragons. Fletchings bristled from the quivers on their backs. Leather riding armor covered their thick sweaters, and matching helmets topped their heads. They gripped the lips of their saddles and stared at the new arrivals with a look of barely-controlled terror.
“About time!” Dragoneer Chanson thundered from the back of the weyr. “Dress for battle, boys!”
“Battle?” Tyber gasped, then looked at Rius.
“Now!” Chanson shouted. “You’ve done this before. Except this time it isn’t a drill.”
“But those dragons,” Weiss said, panting and pointing back at the door as he struggled to keep from doubling over, planting his hands on his knees. “They bore white flags.”
“Dragons! Now!” Chanson shouted.
Tyber broke to his stall, fumbled with the latch, then rushed inside and tossed back the lid of his tack trunk.
“They were Seelian,” Weiss called. The hinges of his tack trunk squealed. “We saw them.”
“Dress your dragon, now!”
Buckles jangled and trunk lids thumped as they rushed through the process of preparing their mounts for battle. Tyber kept his eyes from Rius and focused on the task at hand, his mind empty of all thoughts except the Seelian dragons passing over the lane of sky, their shadows rippling down the sides of the pale stone buildings.
After a final tug on the leather lashes of the quiver, Tyber grabbed a second quiver and slung it over his shoulder. He hurried around Rius, then grasped the saddle gusset, stuck a toe in the stirrup, and pulled himself into the saddle. In a single, fluid motion he landed in the seat. His left hand reached for the limb of the bow while the fingers of his right hand brushed the fletchings of the arrows, tickling his fingertips as he looked forward.
Rius twisted her head around on her long neck to peer at Tyber with unblinking eyes. He wanted to tell her not to be afraid, as much to hear it himself as anything. But the last thing she seemed to be was afraid. He glanced around the weyr. None of the dragons appeared to share his apprehension.
He took a deep breath, listening as boots shifted over straw and stone. Someone hoisted himself into a saddle with a slight grunt. And then all was quiet except for the footfalls of Dragoneer Chanson as he walked slowly down the aisle, inspecting the dragons of Ander’s wing.
When the dragoneer reached the end of the aisle, he turned and jogged back to Merilyss, then climbed into her saddle and knotted his restraints. The weyr grew quiet except for the occasional crunch of straw as a dragon shifted her weight, and her rider adjusted accordingly, saddle leather creaking in response.
Tyber glanced at Ren. His friend sat bolt upright in his saddle, staring straight ahead, his face more pale than Tyber had ever seen. The sight of Ren unnerved made Tyber’s gut clench, his bowels gurgling so loudly it must have been audible on the other side of the city wall.
He took a deep breath, easing it in, and prepared to wait.
Rius looked back at him, her eyes meeting his, he
r face inclining slightly as if suggesting that he shouldn’t worry so much.
Chapter 3
Discomfort radiated through Tyber’s back. He shifted his weight slightly, his grip tightening on the saddle’s lip. It felt as if they’d been waiting for days, yet the light from the windows high above the stalls had hardly changed, if it had changed at all.
The bell tolled again, ringing twice before falling silent.
Tyber looked at Chanson. The dragoneer watched the ceiling at the back of the weyr as if he might see the bell atop the academy.
The bell rang twice more, then fell silent once again.
Dragoneer Chanson visibly relaxed. He turned back to the horde as Tyber whipped his attention forward again, staring at the stonework just above the head of the recruit opposite him.
“You may stand down,” Chanson called, his words echoing through the weyr. “Stow your gear, see to your dragons.”
Tyber’s shoulders loosened, surprising him with how much tension he’d been holding. His hands untied the restraints at his hips as he looked toward Ren. A slight, nervous smile crossed Ren’s face. He nodded, then gripped the saddle lip and prepared to swing his leg over Maybelle’s neck.
Tyber dropped to the floor himself, then stepped to the front of the stall in order to see the head of the weyr. Dragoneer Chanson chatted with Ander and Olsid. Their faces were stern. Ander and Olsid nodded on occasion. Ander folded his arms before himself and glanced down the aisle. His gaze caught Tyber’s, his expression threatening to become a warning glare.
Tyber turned back to Rius. His fingers flew across the belts and brass buckles and tongues that all needed undoing before he could pull the saddle from her shoulders.
As soon as the dragons were taken care of, the proctors dismissed the recruits to the parlor. As they climbed the flight of stairs to the fourth floor, Ren shook his head. “What a miserable way to spend a Sunday evening.”
“They were going to send us off to fight,” Lambert said quietly.
Weiss glanced over his shoulder. “Didn’t you see them? They were flying white flags.”
Hordesmen: The Wisdom of Dragons #4 Page 1
