Dragon Magic: Lyric's Curse 2 (Dragonblood Sagas Book 4)

by Robyn Wideman

  “Two knocks, wait two seconds, then two knocks, wait three seconds and knock once more,” repeated Lord Horne, wanting to make sure he had the instructions sunk into his memory.

  “Yes. Is there anything else I can do for you?” asked the old woman.

  Lord Horne looked around her tent, it was filled with jars of spices and gods knows what else. “What exactly is it that you provide?”

  “I provide potions, salves, the basic witchcraft ingredients, for certain clients I also can provide magic potions, poisons, healing charms,” said the old woman.

  “Poisons?” Lord Horne suddenly saw a new possible route to the throne.

  “Yes, Milord. These are dark times, and the need to have powerful men lead the way has never been greater, but sometimes there are those who stand in the way of those men. Poisons can provide an elegant solution. Take this one here. If a person takes it they become susceptible to suggestion, and you can manipulate them, but when the second ingredient is added it becomes deadly.”

  Lord Horne couldn’t believe his ears. The old witch was like a gift from the gods. “And how much would a poison like that cost?”

  The witch shook her head. “If Milord wishes I can make a batch for him. It will require a few drops of your blood. There would be no cost. I’m sure that your spiritual guidance is going to cost a pretty penny anyways.”

  Lord Horne smiled. The old witch knew exactly why he was seeking the monks of the cloud order. “Yes, I am sure it will. But it will be worth it if it helps with destroying the demons who fly overhead.”

  “And that is why a powerful man like yourself should be in charge. You understand the big picture and the need to act. Go do your business with the order and I’ll prepare your poison.” The witch handed him a small bowl and a dagger. “If you don’t mind.”

  Lord Horne removed his glove and pricked the skin on his palm. He let the blood drip into the bowl. It was a small sacrifice to make for such a powerful weapon.

  “The potion will make whoever you give it to susceptible to your suggestion. Tell them not to drink any wine until you suggest it. Drinking wine will trigger the poison. If you have an enemy with a winery… it would kill two birds with one stone.”

  Lord Horne nodded. He wasn’t thinking about a winery, but he did know which lord controlled all the trade between the southern regions and the capital. Yes, that would work nicely. “I understand.”

  “Good. Now go find the order. Power is nothing without the right weapons to fight the battle ahead.”

  Lord Horne turned and left the tent heading towards Bakers street. He thought about his visit with the witch as he walked. What a turn of events. But why would the old woman help him like that. It was obvious that the woman was a witch and associated with the Sacred Blood in some way. And it was equally obvious that she could see him for what he was; a man willing to do anything to gain power. But why was she willing to help him kill the king? It was no secret that the king had never looked on the Sacred Blood with anything but distain, but now that the king was threatened by the prospects of a noble dragonblood trying to take his throne his position on the Sacred Blood and anyone else who hated dragonbloods had changed dramatically. Perhaps the Sacred Blood wanted someone willing to take the fight to the dragons. Maybe she already knew that it was his son hunting down the dragonblood? Lord Horne didn’t know the answer but he knew he’d found an ally. One that was giving him a way to the throne.

  When he spotted the cobbler’s shop, Lord Horne entered the alley and found the door. He carefully knocked as the witch had instructed. A man wearing a hooded robe opened the door.

  “Enter,” said the man.

  Lord Horne entered the building. The room was small with a desk and two chairs. Another door led further inside the building but it was closed. The man removed his hood and sat down.

  “Have a seat,” said the man.

  Lord Horne followed the man’s lead and sat down.

  “What can the Sacred Blood do for you?”

  Lord Horne smiled. “Not the Cloud Order?”

  The man shook his head. “That knock you used told a story. She is the only one who sends people here with that knock. She wouldn’t send you here if you weren’t looking for the Sacred Blood.”

  Lord Horne knew the she he was referring to was the witch. She must be important to have her own knock, thought Lord Horne. “I need weapons.”

  “Weapons we can do. The Sacred Blood produce some of the finest weapons in the world.”

  “I need weapons for hunting dragons,” said Lord Horne.

  The man raised an eyebrow. “A noble cause, but an expensive one.”

  “The buyer I represent has deep pockets.”

  The man nodded. “Excellent. Well, in that case, come with me.” The man rose and opened the inside door. It led to a much bigger room. It was filled with weapons. Each wall had different types and in the middle of the room was a large table at least twenty feet long filled with another assortment. The man walked through the room, ignoring them all then took a key from a chain around his neck and opened a second door. This room was the same size as the previous one but only had a dozen different weapons. “Dragons are tough to kill at the best of times, but our history books tell us that trapping dragons and the long spears worked well. Archers can take down a dragon, but the shot must be perfect, and you can’t use normal arrows. They need to have the larger tips that won’t snap off and get deep enough to cause a fatal wound.”

  Lord Horne looked at the spears the man had pointed out. They were at least ten feet long with a foot of blade.

  “If you can’t trap the dragon, we recommend your men fight in teams. A shield warrior and a spear man. The shields we have are made with black steel. They aren’t impervious to dragon fire, but they last longer than any other shield. They are heavy, but two men can hide behind one. For every archer or spear man you have you’ll want one shield man. Make sure your men know to keep the weapons and shields of dead warriors. Men come much cheaper than these weapons.”

  “What about armor?”

  “Troll skin and black steel mesh,” said the man.

  Black steel. The famous metal from Northern Solotine, a land of barbarians famous for their black steel. The metal was harder and lighter than normal steel, which were hard enough to come by. Most weapons made in Droll were iron. The superior bronze and steel weapons came from abroad. “How much?”

  “How many men are you wanting to supply?”

  Lord Horne looked at the deadly weapons. “An army.”

  The man laughed. “My apologies, good sir. But to supply an army is impossible. The cost alone is troublesome, but getting enough troll skin for the armor isn’t possible and we have a limited supply of the black steel. It is not a cheap commodity.”

  “How many men to kill a dragon?” asked Lord Horne. He didn’t care about killing dragons, not as much as King Gramalt did, but if he returned to Wilmborne empty handed it would be a problem.

  “Depends on the dragon, they are not all equal. Can you provide any specifics?”

  “No. We just know there is a dragonblood and he has powers. We’re trying to catch him before he finds his dragon, but thus far he’s proved to be difficult to find.”

  “I see. You are right to hunt this dragonblood. The people look to dragonbloods like they are something between a noble and a god. They believe dragonbloods are the key to harmony between our races. But they are the key to our enslavement. Destroying the dragonbloods is almost as vital as killing the dragons. I suggest armor and weapons for two dozen soldiers to start, a dozen shield men and a dozen with spear or bow. It will take some time to train your men properly but we can provide a weapons teacher. And since your cause is so noble the price is substantially less than it would otherwise be.”

  “That sounds excellent. Can you deliver the weapons and the instructor to Wilmborne?” said Lord Horne. Telling the Sacred Blood where to deliver the weapons would confirm to them that the weapons were
for the king, if they didn’t already know it. He suspected they did. The witch had known who he was, and this man was no fool.

  “That won’t be a problem. It will take a couple of weeks for delivery. Some of the gear is too valuable to be kept on Droll.”

  Lord Horne nodded. “Understandable. And the price?”

  “600 gold coins paid upon delivery,” said the man.

  Lord Horne winced. That was the discounted price? And only for weapons and armor for a dozen men? What would it cost to supply an army? “Very well. I will make sure the coin is ready.

  “A pleasure doing business with you. May Garron smile on you.”

  Garron indeed, thought Lord Horne. He cared little for the patron saint of the Sacred Blood, but he wouldn’t insult the man or screw up the deal when he was so close to success. “Thank you, Sir. We need Garron now more than ever.”

  “Have faith. One day all the accursed dragons will be gone and Garron will return.”

  Religious kook, thought Lord Horne. “That will be a glorious day.”

  The man then escorted Lord Horne back to the buildings exit. Lord Horne left and made his way back to the witch. It was time to pick up his poison.

  20

  “Lord Horne, where have you been? I’ve been waiting for your update on the dragon situation.”

  Lord Horne smiled to himself as he gave the king a bow. The king was almost frantic. “My apologies, Your Highness. As we’d discussed I went to North Port to find the monks of the cloud order.”

  “Weapons. That’s right. And your trip was successful?”

  “Yes, Your Highness. The Sacred Blood are delivering weapons and armor for two dozen warriors, along with a weapons trainer to teach the men dragon fighting techniques.”

  “Two dozen? Why so few?”

  “The weapons and armor are quite expensive. They hinted that men were cheaper than the armor.”

  “Yes, that makes sense. And what of the hunt?”

  “I just finished speaking to one of the runners who’ve been bringing updates. Talon and his men have gotten Lyric’s scent. The dogs are on him now. It is only a matter of time now. The boy is moving fast, and isn’t alone, but Talon is playing it smart. He’s using his soldiers to create a net. Now they are closing the net.”

  “Good. I haven’t slept a wink since you left. Perhaps once Lyric is dead I can have some peace. I won’t have my throne taken from me by some damn dragonblood. My family worked too hard to get it.” The king slumped back in his chair and took another drink of his ale. He slammed it down as he emptied it.

  “Allow me, Your Highness.” Lord Horne stepped forward and took the king’s goblet from him and went to the table where a jug of ale was kept for him. Lord Horne walked to the table with his back turned to the king, this allowed him to empty the small vial of poison into the goblet. He then filled it with ale and returned it to the king. “Here you go, Your Highness.”

  “Thank you, Lord Horne,” said the king before taking a big swig of the drink.

  “How are the other affairs in the kingdom?” asked Lord Horne.

  Taking another drink of ale, the king replied. “Terrible. Those peckerwoods in the south are talking rebellion. They insist I lower the taxes.”

  “And did you?”

  “Seven hells man are you daft? You can’t show weakness. They smell it like those wolf hounds smell blood. I raised the taxes and sent a platoon of men to collect. Those bastards won’t tell me how to run this kingdom.”

  What a fool, thought Lord Horne. It was one thing to show strength, but to raise the taxes was to provoke the situation further. Not that he minded. The king provoking a rebellion was perfect timing. The people would be happy to see a new leader emerge, and would be less likely to care about how it came to pass. Lord Horne carefully watched the king, waiting for his eyes to gloss over as the witch had said they would.

  When it happened, it was so subtle Lord Horne almost missed it. But it happened. The poison had worked. It was time to test the king. “Are you feeling okay, My King?”

  “I’m fine, it’s nothing,” said the king.

  “Are you sure? You look tired.”

  The king yawned. “I am a little tired.”

  “You work too hard, My King. You need someone to help you with running the kingdom. You need a regent.”

  “I wouldn’t be so tired if I had help. Declaring a regent, sounds like a good idea.”

  Yes, thought Lord Horne. The poison was working. “You know I am your oldest friend and that I am here for you. If you insisted I would accept the position of royal regent.”

  “Lord Horne, I can’t believe I never thought of this before, but you should be my regent. You are my oldest friend and have always been there for me. You should help me rule Droll.”

  “Thank you, my King. I would be honored to serve as your regent. An official declaration of your decision would be a good idea…”

  “Tomorrow, first thing I will announce the decision and send word to every village and city in Droll that you are the royal regent.”

  “Excellent, My King. I will leave you to get some sleep now. But I think you should stop drinking wine for a while.”

  “That is sound advice. I shall only drink ale from now on,” said the king.

  The witch had delivered as promised. It was only a matter of time now before he became king. The witch was a powerful ally. He’d have to make sure to continue the dragon hunt to appease her and the Sacred Blood.

  21

  When Allan arrived at the Vastel home, no one was there, except Azina.

  “You must be Sir Chestmire. You look different without the shiny armor,” said Azina.

  Allan smiled. “Yes, the shiny armor hides many faults. Where is Blair?”

  “Walking with Valeria.”

  “And the men that seek Lyric?”

  “They’ll be here shortly. I wanted to speak to you first,” said Azina.

  “Me? What would you like to speak to me about?” asked Allan.

  “You’re a lord, sure your father holds that title now, but he is old and his health is fading. Why are you risking your position to help Lyric?”

  “Ah, I see. You think maybe I am working for the king?”

  “The thought crossed my mind. Or perhaps Lord Falbran. He does hold papers on much of your father’s lands.”

  “Another powerful candidate,” admitted Allan. “Except we have squared our debts with Lord Falbran. We relinquished our rights to over half our lands to him.”

  “You lost a huge opportunity when Lyric defeated you. If you’d married Sibylle you’d have the money to pay off Lord Falbran. You could’ve kept your family’s lands.”

  “Also true. That is why I entered the tournament.”

  “So why help Lyric now?”

  “Because it was Lyric who brought me as a guest to the Lamars. Lord Lamar made me a deal that I couldn’t refuse. I care little for the lands that we lost to the Falbrans. They were poor lands, and have been drought stricken for years. But I do care about my people. The lands that the Lamars have let us settle on are rich. My people will thrive again, my father can live out his days in the comfort of his own home without worrying about Lord Falbran or King Gramalt taking his lands. But mostly I am helping Lyric because of honor.”

  “Honor? Who’s honor?”

  “I understand you had a significant hand in Lyric’s training?”

  “Yes,” said Azina. “You could say that.”

  “Then you should be proud. The quality of a student reflects the skills of his teacher. When I say honor. I mean that Lyric is an honorable and good person. You can tell learn a lot about a person by fighting with them. I had the opportunity to fight Lyric twice. Once before he gained his powers and once after. The first time I defeated him, but it wasn’t easy. Although I was bigger, stronger, and more experienced, it was a difficult fight. Lyric fought with determination and spirit. Not because he hated me, or because he was in love with Sibylle. No, he fought
to save his friend. And the second time we fought Lyric had dragon magic. He was the stronger faster fighter and yet he didn’t injure me. Even with magical powers he didn’t become a bully. He handled victory as well as he handled defeat. That tells me much about his character. And when he came to Blair to thank him for his training, I got to know him better. Lyric is a good young man, and one I consider a friend. I would help him regardless of his station as dragonblood.”

  Blair and Valeria returned from their walk. “Everything okay?” asked Blair.

  Azina nodded. “Yes. I was just getting to know Sir Chestmire. You were correct Blair. He’s not the normal stuck up young lord.”

  Blair shook his head. “You don’t have to repeat things like that Azina.”

  Allan chuckled. “It’s okay. I appreciate the fact that Azina felt it necessary to find out why I am here. Lyric needs people he can trust. I hope you consider me among them.”

  “You better be. It’s too late to turn back now. Blair’s new friends are here,” said Azina as she nodded towards the road.

  Allan looked up the road. There was no one there. But seconds later, four men came around the corner and into view. That Azina knew they were there was truly impressive. “Witchcraft,” he said with mock shock.

  Azina snorted. “Your damn straight.

  When the four men arrived at the cottage Blair introduced them. “Gentlemen, this is Azina and Valeria Vastel. The ugly looking gentleman is Sir Allan Chestmire.”

  The first one, a tall lanky fellow with shoulder length hair introduced himself. “Greeting. My name is Carvel Stansfield.” Carvel pointed to the man on his left, a solidly built man with wide shoulders. “This is Marsden Wade.” He then turned to his right. “And these two hooligans are the Hayes twins, Tripp and Jarvis.”