The Dragonprince's Heir

by Aaron Pogue

  The Grand Marshall nodded solemnly and went on. "Your Dragonprince was not satisfied with one man's blood. He tricked the Masters of the Academy into teaching him their secrets and used them to enslave a dragon. Some claim he started the dragonswarm. I cannot say. But he certainly joined the rebels' broken army, remade them with his black magics, and bent them to his purposes. He raised a stronghold in defiance of the king—"

  I could hold my tongue no longer. I shouted, "Of the dragons! They were killing everyone."

  "Yes. At his command. He controlled the dragons. He unleashed them, and the world pays the price."

  "No," I said. "The king knows better. The king was there, beset by dragons, and my father saved his life."

  His eye narrowed again. "I was there, too, boy. I saw it all. And I can recognize a conjurer's feint when I see it."

  "You...you really believe he controlled all the dragons in the dragonswarm? There were thousands!"

  The Grand Marshall hesitated, and when he answered it was with some reluctance. "Seriphenes tells me it's not possible. But everyone knows Daven controlled some, even if we cannot say how many."

  "Three," I said. "Only ever three."

  The Grand Marshall shrugged, uninterested. "And the rest slipped his leash. I will still lay every death they caused at this Dragonprince's feet."

  Something he'd said before finally registered, and I took a step away. "You were there? You're the king's hound?"

  His scowl almost made me curse. I hadn't even stopped to consider the nickname, but it was the one used in all our stories. Othin. The king's hound. The Green Eagle who had been named Grand Marshall for his steadfast persecution of my father. The one man worse than Seriphenes in all the stories.

  And I'd delivered myself into his hands.

  Fear stabbed dark and deep into my heart. While the Grand Marshall glared down at me from his golden throne, I sought desperately for some way out. I could not begin to defend my father's name. I knew too few of the details, but it likely would not have mattered. This man's contempt ran far too deep.

  But that barely mattered. My father was ten years gone, so let the man hate him. I had my own safety to secure. I swallowed hard and fell to my knees at the Grand Marshall's feet.

  "My lord, forgive my ignorance. I do not know these charges. The only tales I know are those we tell at home."

  He snorted. "Lies, I'm sure. The villain had a way with lies and a tongue as smooth as the fiery prince's."

  "But I can swear I played no part in his crimes," I said.

  That dark eye glared down at me, but he sank back in his chair. He lifted his chin in challenge. "Every resident of the Tower is a traitor."

  "Not in heart, my lord. We have no hunger for power. We only want to see the farms growing again. We want to see law and order upheld."

  "But your Tower's very walls defy the laws of this crown."

  I hung my head, pretending penitence and hiding my frustration. "I built no walls, my lord, but while the dragons raged I would not have scorned their safety."

  "Hmf. This much I can accept, but it is not my role to pardon my king's enemies."

  "But would you let your liege pardon them?" He frowned, confused, and I climbed hesitantly to my feet. "The king came to visit us."

  The Lord of Tirah smiled grimly. "I know it well. He is at the Tower now, unless I miss my guess, yet here is the secret son of his adversary—"

  "He is not there," I said. "He left eight days ago for the capitol."

  "And now you wish to sneak back, unnoticed."

  I met his eye, straining to fill mine with pure sincerity. "Oh, not at all, my lord. I met the king within my father's hall. He called me son."

  "You do not lie as well as the man you call your father," he said. "If the king even suspected Daven had an heir—"

  "He didn't," I said. "Not until he came to the Tower, but he did not condemn me when he learned."

  My judge leaned forward to loom over me. "And I have just your word for this?"

  "There is worth in the word of an honest man."

  He sneered. "Perhaps someday I'll meet one."

  I hung my head. He did seem to know the king. With luck, some truth would earn his trust. "The king had his concerns. I will not lie. But what had he to fear from me?"

  "Insurrection. A true son of the one who calls himself Dragonprince would have an army ready-made and a fortress capable of standing a siege."

  I dropped my head, playing shame for all I could. "I have none of those. My mother oversaw the Tower. Caleb commanded the defenders. I am just a child, and the king said as much."

  The good eye narrowed. "Did he?"

  "Yes. He...he took them to the capitol to end the threat."

  "And what of you? If he left you in the Tower, how did you come to my court?"

  I swallowed hard and tried to hide my eyes. "I followed them as far as Cara. I thought I would be safe on my own—"

  "But then you ran afoul of Old Jim's gang. How...fortuitous for me."

  "It was indeed," I said. "The captain didn't say, but I'm the one who led him to the bandits' camp. And I'm the one who subdued them."

  The Grand Marshall leaned back in his throne, one hand propped up on his knee. "A little hero like your father, then?"

  I forced myself to shake my head. "A loyal servant of the king."

  "And I suppose you think you've earned a lord's reward?"

  "No, my lord. I only think I've done no wrongs within your land."

  "Perhaps." He turned to the captain. "You said he'd done a violence."

  The captain paled. "There was some justification, I should say."

  "No doubt. There always is. And yet you thought it wise to bring him here in bonds."

  The captain's mouth worked, but he made no words. The Grand Marshall waved him away. "That was doubtless at the wizard's orders. I've heard from him, you know?"

  I had thought my hopes already crushed, but they sank even lower at this. "Already?"

  The Grand Marshall smiled at me but went on talking to the captain. "Young Dellis was quite breathless. Worried you might let the boy escape. Worried the boy might win my notorious compassion. Hah."

  The captain couldn't meet his master's gaze, but he argued anyway. "For my part, I've found the young man blameless."

  The Grand Marshall waved him away. "I've already promised him to Seriphenes, Tanner, so the argument is moot. If I had known he was Daven's own child.... Ah, but I am a man of honor. I will not break my word."

  When no one else spoke up for me, I tried one more time. "My lord—" I begged, but he stomped a heavy boot to cut me off.

  "I've told you I am not your lord! And you will win no mercies in my court. Captain Tanner, throw him in the cells!"

  The captain cleared his throat. "We do already have rooms secured—"

  "This one will not have rooms, he'll have a cell! And see him bound in chains, with seven guards to watch his door."

  "He's just a boy...."

  "And Daven was as well! A prisoner on the upper floor when he called a swarm of dragons to tear this building stone from stone. It took an army and a score of wizards to save the place that time."

  The Grand Marshall turned on his captain such a look of fury and rage that I expected his next command to be the captain's death sentence. But the king's hound visibly restrained himself and spoke with an eerie indulgence. "But you were not here then."

  "N-no my lord. I was just a child."

  "Indeed. But we must not forget. Even if the nightmare's done, we must never forget." The Grand Marshall turned that eye on me again, all dark malevolence. "Now throw him in the darkest dungeon, and let the wizards know he's here."

  12. Justice

  The dungeons reeked of earth and iron and the smoke of oil-soaked torches. The place seemed freshly carved from the soil beneath the palace, shored up with heavy bars that made a cage against the earth to match the cages built inside. Without any joy in it, Captain Tanner led me down the
dark row between the empty cells. A porter came along behind, rattling with the heavy chains he meant to clamp upon me.

  I didn't dare resist. I'd seen the murder in the Grand Marshall's eye, the glee to have me in his grasp, the plea to give him some pretext for violence.

  Captain Tanner chose my cell—three paces square with nothing but a blanket and a pail. He held the door then watched with guarded eyes as the porter fastened cold, rough iron on my ankles and my wrists.

  The porter fixed a chain around my waist and a collar on my throat and chained the collar to the bars of my cell wall. It wasn't necessary. With so much steel to weigh me down, I couldn't have run. It took all my strength to stand.

  When the porter was done, he saluted Captain Tanner. "He is as secure as I can make him."

  "I see it done," the captain said with cold formality. "I'll have the keys."

  The porter dropped his gaze. "Your pardon, Captain, but the Grand Marshall gave his orders."

  The captain didn't shout. His nostrils flared, but he answered in the same tone. "Very well. Then go and fetch the guards our lord requires. I will stand his warden until they come."

  I sank down on the threadbare blanket, scant protection from the dank chill of the dungeon's floor, and took the chance to rest my legs. I stretched my arms as much as the manacles allowed and fought a yawn.

  "You're bored, my little lord?"

  I looked up and found the captain watching me. "Exhausted," I said. "And afraid."

  He nodded. "And I as well. If I had only known yesterday what excitement last night would entail...."

  I cocked my head. "You would have let me go?"

  He shook his head, grim. "I would have had a larger supper." He looked up and down the narrow path between the empty cells, then lowered his voice. "Is it true? Are you the Dragonprince's heir?"

  Hope flared in my heart at the question. If this one thought my father was a hero, perhaps I could yet escape. I met his eyes. "Every word of it is true."

  "And can you tell me where he is?"

  I gaped at that. "He's dead. He led the dragonriders out to save the world and disappeared. We don't know if he ever even made it to the coast."

  "Oh, he did," the captain said. His eyes glowed. "I saw the dragonriders in all their glory. I cannot speak for the world, but he saved my family and my town."

  "He was a hero, then?"

  "Aye. Perhaps a traitor, too. But certainly a noble one."

  "If he had stayed with us, I wouldn't be a prisoner now."

  The captain nodded solemnly. "If he had stayed with you, I wouldn't be a soldier. I'd be a dead man. Or, worse still, a fisherman."

  I frowned. "A fisherman?"

  "My father's trade," he said. "We owned a boat and quite a tract of open water rights before the dragons came. But they burned Eriden to the ground."

  I looked away. "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. We suffered less than most. My mother heard the rumors and believed them. She had us build a little barrow in the sand, just outside the city."

  "It kept you safe?"

  "And not just us. The neighbors saw it, too. And by the time the dragons came, most every family in town had some place to hide."

  "You were luckier than most."

  He shrugged. "For a while, anyway. They hunted easier prey. But at the end they came for us as well, digging families from the earth in ones and twos. At night, I'd hear their screams."

  He trailed off. I shuddered at the thought of it. "What did you do?"

  "What could I do? I hid and waited. My mother prayed. And then the dragonriders came."

  I scooted forward, chains rattling and heart hammering. "How many were there?"

  The captain shrugged. "How many did he have? A couple dozen? But I was just a child, and it seemed like thousands. They filled the sky, but they didn't scream. Silent as the sea, until they fell upon the burrowers."

  I forced myself to breathe. "Did you see him?"

  "Afterward I did. During the fight I only saw his big red dragon hanging in the sky, watching over the whole world. Smaller dragons came swooping down with men upon their backs and tore the wild dragons to shreds, and he just sat up there and watched."

  I sank back, disappointed. With my fate in the hands of such wretched men as the Grand Marshall and Master Seriphenes, I should not have been so concerned about a story. But still I felt a great regret that this man could not offer me some brief memory of my father's heroism.

  The captain must have seen my disappointment. "Ah, but your father had the command. Even with those legendary powers at his disposal, he was able to do more by sitting outside the fray and directing his men. They moved with a precision I have rarely seen, herding the dragons away from our hiding places and then destroying them."

  I licked my lips. "I never got to see him in action."

  He nodded. "The beast he rode was like a mountain made of fire, and a slice of perfect shadow flew at his right hand. But if he had unleashed their fire on the beaches, my family would have died along with the dragons."

  I shook my head. "He had other powers than that."

  "Indeed he did. Loyal and disciplined men, unafraid to risk their lives for the sake of others." The captain smiled at me. "I decided then to become a dragonrider. They flew off north, out across the channel, and I packed my bags and headed south to find the Tower of Drakes."

  I frowned up at him. "Then how did you end up here?"

  He shrugged. "It is a harder road than you might know, from the Free Cities across the whole of the Ardain. It took more than a year just to reach Tirah, and by then—"

  He stopped himself too late.

  I turned away. "By then, everyone knew he wasn't coming back."

  The captain nodded, grave. "Nor were the dragons. I had seen what damage they could do, but the Grand Marshall showed me the damage done by lawless men. I saw a new threat, and an opportunity to answer this one, as your father did the last."

  I looked down at my chains. "And now you see what a monster your master can be."

  He didn't answer. After a moment I looked up. His jaw was set, his expression solid stone. I rattled my manacles beneath his nose. "He will hand me to the wizards out of envy for my father's fame!"

  "No," the captain said slowly. He rose to tower over me. "He will hand you to the Justice to secure the peace. Hero though he was, your father's legacy is a danger now."

  "He saved your family!"

  The captain only nodded. "He sacrificed much for the sake of this nation. We all should be so strong."

  "There is no justice here," I said. "You saw the Grand Master's rage. And there are those at the Academy more terrible by far. But let me go, and I will help—"

  "I can't." He took a step away, then turned and looked toward the distant doors. Footsteps thudded on the earthen floor as all my wardens came to watch over me.

  The captain turned and met my eyes. "If you ever see your father again, give him my regards."

  I stretched a hand toward him. "Wait."

  He turned away, saluted the approaching jailers, and left me to my fate.

  Disappointment hit me first, followed by a fiery anger. The injustice of it burned. I had been kidnapped by a king. I had been robbed and left to die. I had helped apprehend a band of notorious outlaws, and this was my reward.

  I sat on the cold earth floor, weighed down by the heavy chains, and I shivered. They thought me a traitor. That made me far worse than a brigand. They thought me a threat to the crown, a rebel prince. I knew well what had become of the last rebel in this palace.

  They brought me food, but I could not eat it. I drank the acrid water, but it did nothing to satisfy me. These wardens would not speak to me, and when I tried to sleep I only trembled harder.

  Seriphenes was coming for me, with fire in his eyes and hatred in his heart. My father would not have been afraid. He'd faced the wizard down and mocked him. But then, my father would not have been a prisoner to rusted chains and a dirty little p
it. He had torn out walls in this very palace. He had escaped the mountain lair of Pazyarev. He had laughed at a siege by all King Timmon's forces.

  And he had left us alone. We still needed him, but he had left us alone. I needed him, but he was gone. I pulled the miserable blanket tight around me and blinked against the tears. I traded one darkness for another and slept at last.

  Three days I languished in the dungeons of Tirah. It was more than time enough to think.

  I quickly dismissed the possibility of escape. I had none of my father's powers, and though Caleb had trained me in dozens of forms of combat, he had also taught me enough to recognize a fight I could not win. The cell's floor was hard-packed dirt, and if I had been abandoned to rot in this cage, perhaps I might have dug a path to freedom. But I had only days and lived in constant surveillance.

  It came to me quickly enough that I needed no such feat. I only had to lie. This brutal lord had not known Daven had a son, and Tirah was one of the nearest cities to the Tower. The king had not known it either.

  If I but admitted the claim had been a subterfuge, a failed attempt to curry favor by pretending to belong to a powerful family, they'd be hard-pressed to prove me wrong. It took me a day to even conceive the notion, and another day to consider it. The very thought was painful—denying my father's name—but it would be better than a hanging for treason. Better far than the sorts of punishment the wizards might imagine. I fell asleep the third night still uncertain, still hoping some rumor of my legacy might come and set me free. But in my dreams, Seriphenes jeered down at me and stabbed at me with lightning.

  I woke with a start, drenched with sweat and trembling in terror. I crawled over to the bars and called out to the guards. "I lied! I am no Dragonprince's son. Go and tell your lord I lied. I'm just a hungry beggar from the Tower."

  The king knew better. He'd seen me in my home. But he, with Mother and Caleb, was now at sea. It would take days and much expense to send a letter to the court. Would this Grand Marshall waste so much on me, with only my word to condemn me?