My words earned me the flash of a smile from Saffron, but Ryland pulled at his beard and said, “People from the city once traveled to our settlement with dusty, old books, talking of the old days. But our people were dying, and these travelers spoke of ways to hide and only of how to work from within. That did us no good. We told them to stick to the cities and sent them away while we struggled to train our dragons.”
My heart leapt. Maybe their test wouldn’t be so difficult. If they were trying to train dragons with chains, and I had at least learned from Saffron and Jaydra better ways to work with dragons, this test might be as simple as getting a dragon to behave.
But hadn’t I read something once about the wild, black dragons being very different from all others? That thought worried me, so I asked, “Why do you think your dragons and the land is under a spell?”
Saffron asked, “Why do you hide your dragons?”
Ryland snorted as if we both asked stupid questions. “We bring out our dragons only when they are needed. It is too dangerous otherwise.”
Dropping her arms to her side, Saffron asked, “What do you mean dangerous? Don’t you offer them enough food to keep them happy?”
Ryland thrust an accusing hand up toward the mountains that towered over the settlement. “We drive a muddle of sheep up to them every night! But in the morning you will see and understand.” He turned and headed back into the hall, leaving us in the cold and bright moonlight. Saffron sighed. “At least we can sleep next to Jaydra tonight. She’ll be warm enough to keep us comfortable.” She turned and headed out of the settlement, walking toward the wide, mountain meadow to the west.
Leaving the light of the settlement behind left me feeling more than a little disappointed in these people. They were even more cynical than the people of Torvald. These people knew dragons existed—how was it they did they not love their dragons?
And what kind of test was I to face tomorrow?
My boots seemed to grow even heavier as we trudged toward Jaydra, who lay snoring happily on what I judged to be a bellyful of lake fish. I curled up under her leathery wing, not far from Saffron. But I lay there, eyes open, staring at the stars.
And I kept thinking about the coming day and all I must do.
How was I going to prove I was a dragon king?
11
Curious
I woke long before Bower, my eyes seeming to pop open and magic stirring inside me. Like always, I shut it down before it could come fully to life. Anger always stirred the magic, and I was still angry with these people for how they seemed to think dragons were just stupid beasts, and angry with the Hermit for sending us here. But all of that seemed useless. The Hermit was dead and I still wanted to see these wild dragons of the Three-Rivers clan to see what they were like. Slipping out from under Jaydra’s wing, I stretched, yawned and glanced around.
Dawn seemed a gray light in the east, the settlement sat quiet without so much as a morning fire sending smoke into the air and even Jaydra slept.
Jaydra’s mind brushed against mine as some part of her sensed I was awake, but she couldn’t rouse herself from her own dreams.
Silver fishes, jumping fishes, tasty fishes.
I patted her neck. “Dream sweet dreams while you may, and keep our boy-king safe,” I muttered.
I’d grown fond of Bower, but a need to protect him sat heavy inside me. I had never felt close to anyone other than Jaydra. Even Zenema had been more a mother to me, but Jaydra was almost a part of me. Of course, dragons didn’t need a lot of protecting, and it was an unwritten rule that everyone in the clutch had to be able to look after themselves, which Jaydra could do. So it was strange to feel this way.
Is this what friendship is?
From where he was sprawled under Jaydra’s wing, Bower’s boot twitched as if he too was still caught up in dreams. He was going to need new boots soon, for his looked to be losing their soles and seemed over-large on his feet.
Remembering Ryland’s score of Bower as any kind of dragon-kin I wondered if Bower really was ready to control armies. At times it seemed to me that he was as bad at being a king as I was at dealing with magic. I stared at my hands, wondering why it was that sometimes the magic seemed so simple to me—it just happened and was perfect. Other times the power frightened me and left me worried it would twist into something dark—it was Maddox magic after all.
But Zenema’s words kept echoing in my mind—the truth of who I was lay in my blood. I had to trust in who I really was inside—that I was not like Enric.
I also had to trust in the truth in Bower’s blood.
He had risen to the challenge of organizing the escape of the villagers. He had come up with a good plan to defeat Enric’s ships and save the dragons from a terrible battle. I had to trust that when the time came the qualities of a strong and wise leader would be there for him and for all dragons as well.
None of that, however, helped us with getting through whatever tests the Three-Rivers clan would put before Bower—and I was not certain I would be allowed to help him. And I was certain whatever test Ryland planned for Bower, it would involve their dragons. After all, how can a dragon-king be tested if not with dragons?
I had best go and try to find these wild dragons before Bower had to face them.
Using some of our water, I washed quickly, pulled out a thick cloak to keep me warm against the chill of the morning—for mist clung to the air, stirred up by the rivers—and glanced around.
This far north any dragon would need warm dens, and dragons always preferred dens in high places. So the mountains that surrounded the place where the three rivers met must be where these wild dragons lived. The rivers would be too wet, so I set off for the closer mountains, for as the sun rose it showed what seemed to be some large caverns near the peaks.
Thinking of dragons and dens left me wondering how Zenema and the other dragons fared. Had more ships from Enric arrived to lay siege to the island? Or was my dragon-kin now safe on another island, hidden from harm?
My dragon family was tough, strong and quick. I had to trust in that, too. So I put my mind to the task I’d set for myself—climbing up to the caverns I had seen to find the wild dragons.
Used as I was to climbing, I still wished I could fly Jaydra here. However, it was best to meet these dragons without the intrusion of a strange dragon into their territory. Just my appearing in their den might alarm them.
My boots crunched on a layer of frost, but soon grass gave way to shake and iron rock. The mountain side grew steeper, but I could still walk and found goat trails that led me higher.
By the time the morning mists had lifted and the first birds started to sing, I had neared the top.
But somebody else was here as well.
A low male voice said, “Steady you go, steady.”
Peering around a large boulder that blocked my path, I saw a man of middle years, prodding a small trio of sheep forward. The animals seemed too frightened to even bleat. The man looked to be from the Three-Rivers clan for he wore their distinctive mix of leather and cloth leggings and tunic and leather boots, and markings dotted his arms with odd designs. He used a staff to urge the sheep forward, herding up the narrow path I had been following.
Looking beyond him, I saw the path led to the cavern mouth I had glimpsed from afar. At this close range I saw it was actually fenced with an iron gate.
The bars seemed too thin to ever pose a real barrier to a dragon of Jaydra’s size, but a metal net seemed to be threaded into the bars and over it and that would make it stronger.
They’ll never get their dragons to respect them.
I thought of the pure rage Jaydra would inflict on any who tried to imprison her in such a fashion as this. Did these people know nothing of dragons? Why did anyone think that a rider of dragons had ever taught the Three-Rivers clan anything?
The sheep stopped on the path and refused to go any further, despite the man’s prodding. I didn’t blame them. It is a wise animal th
at knows to avoid a dragon’s den. But the man herding them pulled out a length of rope, tied the sheep together and then tied them to the metal bars.
Reaching down to the belt at his waist, he fumbled with something that clattered. I realized he must have a key and the bars were not a fence, but were a gate. After fitting the key in place, the man jerked back a section of the fence. It gave with a groan of metal on metal. The sheep struggled now to break free of the rope and sympathy for the poor beasts stirred in me.
These dragons had to be very different not to want to fly and hunt their prey. The dragons of the Western Isles not only enjoyed the thrill of a hunt, but they killed fast and their prey hardly had time to even realize it was about to be a dragon meal.
At least my prey can run, Jaydra said in the back of my mind. She was awake now and keeping part of her senses on what I was doing in case I needed her help.
The man shoved the sheep into the cavern, one at a time before hurriedly locking it.
The man turned and started down the path again. I ducked off the trail and hid behind a boulder, but the man was intent on hurrying away. He didn’t notice me, and anger surged in me that he wasn’t even going to stay and witness the final moments of these poor sheep. The least he could have done was be witness to their fate.
Jaydra thoughts reached me again. Jaydra does not think Saffron wants to see what happens next, either. Come back. Bower wakes and wants food. So does Jaydra.
Just keep him busy. Hunt fish for him and yourself, I thought to her.
Jaydra was happy enough to put her mind on hunting fish for breakfast, but I could still sense her senses. She worried over what was about to happen up here behind these iron bars—and she could smell dragons.
A low rumbling echoed from within the cavern, and then a hissing rose. It sounded to me like a dozen or more large, scaly bodies moving in the darkness, shifting and flowing over one another.
The sheep panicked and threw themselves against the metal bars, seeking escape. The sound grew so loud it seemed about to burst from the darkness like a volcano, but it suddenly stopped.
The wind whistled through the rocks, but otherwise all was silent. Not so much as a bird stirred, nor any small creature. Even the sheep held still, seemingly frozen in fear. The sun peaked over the eastern mountains, starting to warm the day and stretching light into the cavern, but I saw nothing.
Was this just some bizarre ritual of the Three-Rivers clan to leave sheep here? But Jaydra could still smell dragon and I could feel part of her senses trained on this spot. She was waiting.
And then I saw something move in the dark cavern.
Eyes appeared first, seeming more red lights. Two sets of eyes blinked and smoke curled into the air. In an instant, two long snouts burst forward, snapping up two of the sheep so quickly the animals had not even a moment to bleat. The third also vanished with a snap and a spatter of blood. I glimpsed scales dark as midnight with the sheen of blue and purple flashing in the light. These dragons seemed much thinner and smaller than Jaydra, with wicked sharp spines along their heads and backs.
And then they were gone, retreating back into the darkness.
My heart was beating fast and sweat cooled on my back and forehead. I stared into the cavern, trying to see if there were more dragons, or just the two I had glimpsed.
I could feel no hint of a dragon mind in the darkness. These dragons seemed as wild as the Grim Bears I had once encountered.
Jaydra, do you sense anything? I asked.
But Jaydra seemed busy hunting the rivers for fish.
I reached out again with my mind, searching the cavern for even a flicker of awareness or sensation. I had always had a strong bond with Jaydra, but even with the other dragons of the Western Isles, I had always been able to reach any dragon mind.
Pulling my cloak tighter about me, I wondered if these dragons simply did not want to open their mind to others. Perhaps having been locked up behind bars like this had left them unable or unwilling to trust any human. Or perhaps the rock here, which seemed to be solid iron, would not allow me to reach these dragons.
I was about to give up and turn away when I felt something.
It at once seemed to me a sense of two dragon minds in the cavern. Their thoughts seemed far different from any other dragons I had ever sensed. Instead of clear thoughts, a wild savagery slipped into my mind, and I wondered if these dragons were all emotion.
Perhaps they had never talked to any human before this. Given how the Three-Rivers clan kept them locked up, unable to fly, I could well believe that no human had even tried to speak to them.
Easing forward on the path, I strode to the metal bars and put my hand through it—perhaps it was just the metal blocking our connection.
My name is Saffron. I have a den-sister named Jaydra, daughter of Zenema of the Western Isles.
Emotions and garbled thoughts hit me, making me tremble. A sense of hatred as strong as my magic battered at me. From the darkness, one eye opened, this one white and swirling and very much a dragon eye. The dragon glared at me and its thoughts struck like a gale force wind.
Hate humans. Eat humans. Hate you!
I staggered back. Never before had any dragon regarded me with such contempt. Never had I sensed such loathing and such a powerful hatred. Pulling back, I wondered if I should try again to reach these two dragons, but in my mind Jaydra was warning me to take care. And she was right.
These weren’t just wild dragons, these were dragons that had been abused and imprisoned. It was possible they might never trust any human. Turning way, I could see now why Ryland had said these dragons were dangerous—they were. They were almost as mindless as Enric’s Iron Guard, and they were fit only to be machines that killed. These were not the dragons that might be the basis for an army.
I had learned to dislike the Three-Rivers clan last night when they’d seemed so uncaring of their dragons. But now I could hate these people almost as much as their dragons did. For these people had turned dragons into the very nightmare that Bower had always said was how the people of Torvald viewed dragons.
12
Challenged
Saffron strode back to where I waited with Jaydra, fish roasting on campfire, looking as though she hadn’t slept at all. I could see every freckle on her pale cheeks and purple stains smudged her eyes, leaving them looking huge. Her leather jerkin seemed dusty as did her boots, and she strode toward me, coming from the western mountains.
“What happened to you?” I asked and stood. Next to me the fire crackled happily. Jaydra sat not far away, watching Saffron and saying nothing that I could hear.
The sun had warmed the meadow where we had spent the night, but rivers seemed to leave a chill in the air. Saffron’s breath puffed in the air like a dragon’s.
Saffron stopped in front of me, her cloak thrown back from her shoulders. She fixed a hard stare on me and said, her voice urgent, “We should leave. Now.”
“What’s wrong? Is this about last night and Ryland not believing I could be king?” I could almost hear a sullenness in my own voice. Even I didn’t believe I really would make a great king, so why should I expect anyone else to?
“No, Bower. Please.” She reached out and touched my arm. “We can fly back to Den Mountain and then follow the island dragons to a new home. Zenema will know of other dragons who may help us, or we can fly south. Far away from Enric.”
“What are you talking ab—?”
A long, echoing call cut off my words. It sounded to me like what I had always imagined the great Dragon Horn sounding like. The call echoed again, and I traced it back to the center of the Three-Rivers clan settlement. It had to be coming from the hall where we had dined last night. From within the settlement, excited whoops rose up. It sounded to me as if this was the call to summon me to my test.
My stomach tightened. The fish Jaydra had brought back for breakfast no longer seemed so appetizing. My mouth dried.
I’m not ready for this.
Panic shook my chest and my fingers, but then I remembered I had not been ready for Ysix’s test, either. I pulled in a breath and glanced at Saffron. She was staring at the settlement, her mouth set in a hard line and her blue eyes suddenly dark and fierce.
Before she could ask again for us to leave, I told her, “I can’t turn away from this. My father died to keep my bloodline secret, to give me a chance at the throne that is rightfully mine. I can’t turn away from my duties—I have to think of all those who suffer under Enric right now. Enric won’t stop trying to kill every last person who is part of the rebels, the Salamanders. He won’t stop persecuting those who only want to know the true history of their kingdom. And he won’t stop chasing us no matter where we go. That means we have to fight—and if we want a hope of winning, then I have to prove to these people I am their king. If I don’t…I won’t just lose their respect me, I’ll lose my self-respect.”
Saffron shook her head. My words had done nothing to erase the doubt in her eyes or ease the creases lining her forehead. “You don’t understand. These dragons are not what we need.”
“Yes, but they’re what we have,” I said.
Ryland and a group of five men marched toward us from the settlement. Each man held a long spear and the men had dressed in heavy leather jerkins, breeches and boots.
I turned from Saffron to face them, glad now I hadn’t eaten any breakfast. My stomach seemed to be knotted tight.
Glancing from man to man, I wondered if I was going to have to best one or more of them in combat. If so, I would surely lose. Like every noble son of Torvald, I’d been trained to use a sword, but these men were taller and thicker than I was.
But I noticed with a shock that these men were the ones who looked frightened. They swapped nervous stares, licked their lips and shifted their spears from hand to hand as if they were the ones facing a test.
Dragons of Kings (Upon Dragon's Breath Trilogy Book 2) Page 11
