Dragon Hero: Riders of Fire, Book Two - A Dragons' Realm novel

by Eileen Mueller

  Through gritted teeth, Tomaaz attempted a smile.

  “I’ll need your ma’s healing supplies, if you know where they are,” Ana said.

  He managed a nod as Klaus and Lofty helped him up the steps into the house.

  Pa was on his bed, Pieter and the smithy pacing nearby like wolves.

  “Over here.” Klaus motioned toward Ma’s side of the bed. “It’ll be easier if you’re both together.”

  What would be easier? Healing them? Or guarding them?

  Ana seated the shivering Lovina in a chair in the corner and bundled a blanket around her. Klaus shooed Pieter and the smithy into the living area and took up vigil next to Lovina, leaning his bulk against the wall.

  Tomaaz’s shins and calves were red and blistered, but his feet had been protected by his boots. He grimaced at the raw flesh on Pa’s legs and feet, covered with yellow blisters as big as eggs. Gods, how could his father walk, let alone fight tharuks?

  Ana, Lofty and Ernst bathed Pa and Tomaaz’s burns with wet cloths, cooling them. Then Ana smeared healing salve over the raw parts of Tomaaz’s legs. Her touch bit into him like a nest of viscous ants. He clamped his teeth down on a stick, knowing Pa’s pain was worse.

  Ana moved to treat Pa. Pa lay there, groaning and grunting, drifting in and out of consciousness.

  “Hans,” Ana asked, “does Marlies have any piaua juice?”

  No answer.

  “Not sure,” Tomaaz replied. “Her supplies are in the wooden chest in the kitchen.” Was his pain ever going to end?

  Ana left and bustled back in, beaming. “I found some piaua.” She held up two vials of clear green liquid.

  Only two vials. “Is that enough?” Tomaaz croaked.

  Lofty gave him a sip of water.

  Ana frowned. “We’ll see.” She approached him.

  “No. Heal Pa. He needs it more.”

  She nodded and retreated to the other side of the bed.

  Ana dribbled the piaua juice onto Pa’s leg, then tried to smooth it into his flesh, but Pa screamed, twisting on the bed. His foot connected with Ana’s stomach.

  She cried out, but managed to hold the vial upright.

  “Pieter, Smithy!” Klaus barked, coming over to pin Pa’s shoulders. “In here. Restrain him.”

  The smithy held Pa’s hips down. Ana wrapped bandages around Pa’s ankles while Pieter had the awful job of holding them in place.

  Brow beaded with sweat, his father moaned as Ana smoothed the juice into his burnt skin. Pa’s wounded flesh shrank before Tomaaz’s eyes, disappearing. The bulbous blisters shriveled and sagged, then vanished. Pa’s moaning stopped. Where his burns had been was pale-pink skin.

  Klaus exhaled. “No matter how many times I see it, piaua never ceases to amaze me.”

  Letting go of Hans, Pieter and the smithy murmured in assent.

  Pa opened his eyes. “Shards, that stuff burns! Almost as bad as fire!” His chuckle died in his throat as he glanced over at Tomaaz. “My son, Ana. You must heal Tomaaz.”

  Ana held up a vial. “I only have quarter of a vial left. What will it be? Your hands? Or your son’s legs?”

  Pa held up his blistered hands, examining them as if they didn’t belong to him. “I’ve had worse. I’ll be fine. Heal him.”

  “Hans, I—”

  “No,” Pa bit out, “I want my son fit to fight tharuks when they arrive tomorrow.” He glared at Klaus, his jaw jutting out.

  Klaus shook his head, his mouth hardening in a grim line.

  “Pa,” Tomaaz said, his gaze landing on Lovina. “Lovina’s back is worse.”

  Klaus nodded.

  “Please, Ana, heal her,” Tomaaz said.

  §

  Lovina stirred. The boy with the emerald eyes and golden hair had mentioned her. Impossible. No one ever noticed her.

  Certainly not anyone that beautiful. She’d seen Tomaaz fighting in the marketplace today. Laughing. Confident. Hugging his sister.

  He said it again. “Please, heal Lovina.”

  Lovina strained to see through the gray fog. He was staring right at her. She dropped her gaze. The only time anyone ever looked at her was usually right before they hurt her.

  Uneven thumps reverberated through the floor.

  It was him, hobbling over on wounded legs. Wincing, he lifted her chin with gentle fingers.

  “Lovina.” His breath brushed her cheek. “We’d like to heal your back.”

  She stared at him.

  The fire crackled next door, the way the pyre had crackled before he’d saved his pa.

  “Lovina, please, let us heal you.”

  She swallowed and bobbed her head.

  “Good.”

  Lovina was bathed in the light from his smile.

  §

  Ana led Lovina out of the room, and Tomaaz sank back on the bed beside Pa. Those few paces across the room had taken more out of him than he realized. If only there’d been enough juice to heal them all. But there wasn’t, and Lovina’s infected back needed more help than his legs. He was strong, healthy. He’d heal in a few days. She was frail, as thin as a wisp. Her dull gray eyes ate away at him.

  “Lofty, please find something warm for Lovina to wear,” he asked. “There must be something among Ezaara’s things.”

  “Good idea, Tomaaz.” Klaus’ voice startled Tomaaz. He’d forgotten Lush Valley Settlement’s arbitrator was there.

  Pa sat up in bed, flexing his legs. “Klaus, we have to prepare against tharuks.”

  “I’ve had enough of you inciting people, Hans.”

  “They’re coming, whether you believe it or not,” Pa insisted. “Either we meet them prepared or pretend nothing’s happening. It’s your decision.”

  “I said, I’ll not have you inciting rebellion.”

  “Klaus, see reason.”

  Klaus’ face was a storm cloud. “I am seeing reason. I believe what I see. And I haven’t seen a beacon fire or any sign of mythical beasts.”

  “Mythical!” Pa exploded. “I’ve fought those monsters, years ago, before I came to Lush Valley. Tharuks are no more mythical than a field of wheat. Look!” Pa pulled up his smoke-stained shirt to reveal a faded white scar across his belly. “Tharuk tusk! Now what do you think of that?”

  Klaus shrugged. “Looks like an old knife wound to me.”

  “Klaus, you idiot!” Pa yelled.

  He’d pushed it too far. Klaus face’ went red and he hissed, “Smithy, Pieter, in here.”

  A moment later, their bulk filled the doorway.

  “Hans requires a few nights in the cells to teach him civility and reason. Now that his wounds have been treated, you may escort him to jail.”

  Pieter and the smithy yanked Pa to his feet.

  Ernst rushed in, placing a hand on Klaus’ arm. “Klaus, please. Hans is an upstanding member of our settlement. He’s had a few shocks today. First the dragon, then his daughter being ill, and now, almost being burned at the stake. I think he just needs rest.”

  Staring at Ernst as if he was vermin, Klaus said, “He’ll get plenty of rest in jail. That will give us time to uncover more proof that he is, indeed, a dragon lover.”

  The crash of the front door made Tomaaz start. A man shoved his head through the doorway. “Klaus, sir, we’ve captured Bill and put him in jail. Says he wants to see his daughter.”

  “I’ll not have that man go near Lovina again,” Klaus said. “Help these two take Hans to jail. Not in Bill’s cell, though. I’ll not have murder on my conscience.”

  “Uh, sir, excuse me, but I’m suspicious of Tomaaz,” Pieter said.

  Klaus nearly snapped Pieter’s head off. “What now?”

  Tomaaz’s heart thudded.

  “Tomaaz offered to take my daughter, Beatrice, out walking.” Pieter’s glance slid over Tomaaz. “I believe he was trying to entice her into the forest to offer her to the dragon.”

  Throat tight, Tomaaz waited for Klaus’ verdict.

  In the next room, Lovina whimpered. />
  Glaring at Tomaaz, Klaus said, “You’ll keep until morning.” He swept out the door, announcing, “I’ve had enough! I’m going home to bed!”

  Through Fog

  After a hurried meal of flatbread, Lofty hoisted Tomaaz onto Sorrel, their tamest mare, then climbed into the saddle in front of him. Tomaaz felt like a littling, but he didn’t protest. His legs were too sore to ride Sorrel on his own. He clung onto Lofty, each jolt painful, as they plodded along the road into the village.

  Pa in jail. Ma heading for tharuks, and Ezaara riding a dragon queen he hadn’t even known existed. Life was as slippery as the stepping stones in a flood. He shook his head, then wished he hadn’t as the world rocked around him. He was weaker than a newborn colt.

  As they passed by, mothers tugged their children behind them. Men glowered, folding their arms across their chests. Tomaaz’s skin crawled from the heat of their stares. When they reached the jail, Lofty helped him down, and Tomaaz hobbled inside like an elderly man.

  “Down the end, dragon lover.” The guard spat on Tomaaz’s boots.

  It was all he could do not to draw his sword, but he was in no condition to fight.

  “Easy,” Lofty whispered behind him. “I’ve got your back.”

  Prisoners lay on wooden beds, warily watching them pass. In the distance, rough retching broke the silence.

  “Got any food?” a dirty-faced man pleaded, poking his arms through the bars.

  In the last cell on the left, Bill was crouched over a wooden pail, vomiting. “You!” He let out a string of curses, then bent over his bucket again.

  The cloying scent made Tomaaz’s stomach turn. Thankfully, he’d only had bread for breakfast. Lofty wrinkled his nose, and mimed gagging.

  In the cell opposite Bill’s, Pa was pacing. He hurried over to the bars. “Still in pain, Son?”

  Tomaaz shrugged. “They treating you all right?”

  Pa snorted. “Those sharding idiots will all be killed in their sleep.”

  “I heard that,” called the guard down the hall. “Are you threatening murder?”

  Pa leaned forward, speaking quietly. “You should’ve let yourself be healed yesterday. You can hardly walk. When tharuks arrive, you’ll be easy pickings, Son.”

  “I had to help Lovina. You saw her back.”

  “Lovina?” Bill approached the bars of his cell. “Boys, where’s my daughter?” He reached a grasping hand through the bars, beckoning to Lofty. “I helped you with those bets. Helped you get rich, I did. Surely, you can ask my daughter to bring me my favorite tea?”

  Swayweed tea.

  Lofty winked at him. “Of course I will, Bill.” He turned back to Pa, rolling his eyes. “My father come to see you this morning?”

  “Yes,” Pa whispered. “He’s recruiting those who will fight, but there aren’t enough. See who you can find. Young, fit, strong. Although your Pa has never fought tharuks, he’ll train them as well as he can.” Hans shook his head. “If only I was out of here.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Tomaaz asked. “I could drill them in sword fighting.”

  Deep grooves furrowed Pa’s forehead. “Not now, you can’t. Go and rest in bed,” he said. “Heal up before those beasts arrive.”

  Pa thought he was useless because he was injured. Tension coiled deep in Tomaaz’s belly, like a tharuk tusk driving through his innards.

  §

  Gingerly, Lovina stirred, bracing herself. Bill’s kick never came. Neither did his usual guttural shout. Something was odd. There was no dull ache in her back. No searing. No pain at all. Then she remembered.

  Earlier today, Ana had healed her, telling her that not even piaua juice could erase such extensive scarring. It’d been years since her back hadn’t been ripped bloody by Bill’s lash. Every day she’d carried that pain. Some days it had swallowed her.

  Now it was gone.

  Her hand brushed against the softest fabric she’d felt since … distant memories tried to break through, like glimmers, but swirling fog devoured them. She sat up, rolling her shoulders, allowing herself to smile, a fleeting tentative thing.

  The floorboards creaked. Through the gray shrouding her vision, a man approached, reaching out a hand. “It’s all right. I won’t hurt you.”

  Lovina flinched, pulling her knees up to her chest and curling in on herself. Bill had always said that, the yellow gleam of swayweed bright in his eyes as he raised the whip. She huddled against the wall.

  The man placed something on the bed, then retreated. “The berries are for you. They’ll help the fog go away.”

  The man must be lying. Why would he want to lift the fog? Lovina couldn’t remember life without the debilitating blanket across her vision and mind. She peered through the gray at three burnt-orange berries, shriveled with age, on the quilt.

  “I’ll get you some water.”

  “No!” The whisper burst from her in a violent exhalation. She snatched the berries. They were dry—tiny nuggets of hope clutched tight in her hand.

  What had Bill said? His water made her biddable. Obedient. Lovina snorted. Bill’s water enslaved her to his will. This man had offered her water too. What did he want? She sat on the bed, gripping the berries, staring at him, fog weaving between them, keeping her newly-healed back pressed hard against the wall.

  §

  Lofty helped Tomaaz off the horse. “Why do you want to see Lovina anyway?” he asked. “I thought you liked Beatrice.”

  “Huh! Not anymore.” The hurt of Beatrice spitting on Tomaaz still rankled, but it was nothing compared to what Bill had done to Lovina. “He deserves his hands cut off, Bill does.” Tomaaz clenched his fists. “Treating his daughter like that.”

  “I doubt she’s his daughter. They say tharuks often reward their spies with slaves from Death Valley.”

  “Death Valley!” Could Lovina really have been there? From living hell with Zens to further hell with Bill—a bleak existence. Tomaaz would never forget the blood-red, pus-yellow and faded-scar latticework across her back. Those whip marks were seared into his brain, hotter than the burns on his shins.

  “She’s in the littlings room,” Lofty said as they crossed the threshold to his home.

  Tomaaz hobbled past the kitchen table, toward the bedroom.

  Ana closed a door with a click. Her shrewd eyes turned to Tomaaz. “You’re here to see Lovina?”

  He nodded, reaching for the door handle.

  Ana placed a hand on his forearm. “Go softly. See if she’ll take the clear-mind berries we gave her.”

  Clear-mind—to combat numlock. “I’ll try.” He turned the handle.

  The room was bright with sunlight. The large bed for Lofty’s three youngest brothers was pushed up against the wall. Lovina was scrunched in the corner, bleary-eyed, her face pinched with suspicion and fear.

  Tomaaz closed the door and sat in a chair, resting his throbbing legs. So much mistrust. So tense and scared—not that he blamed her.

  “Lovina,” he scarcely dared breathe her name, afraid of startling her. “I trust Ernst and Ana. I’ve known them all my life. When I was small, we used to fish for freshwater lobsters in the creek. You know the ones?”

  Her gaze flitted to the window, the door, around the walls and back to his face.

  Her fear made his chest ache. He and Ezaara had grown up surrounded by love. Imagine living the way Lovina had.

  Actually, he couldn’t imagine it at all.

  §

  Tomaaz spun stories of sunny littling days in streams and forests, playing outdoors with his sister and friend. His gentle voice floated through Lovina’s fog, his golden hair catching the sun. She leaned forward, straining to hear as he wove tales of the desert lands over the Naobian sea, the thriving metropolis of Montanara and the lush green flatlands past the Grande Alps.

  The gray mists still swamped her, stopping her mind from forming pictures, but his words were soothing. Lovina’s muscles loosened and she closed her eyes, listening.

&n
bsp; “Lovina, do you want to be free of the fog?”

  Hearing him rise, she snapped her eyes open. No fog meant feeling pain. She shook her head, gripping the berries tighter.

  §

  As a gold-tinged dawn tickled the treetops, Tomaaz walked to Lofty’s house. Ana’s healing poultice had helped his burns, but by the time he got there, his legs were throbbing.

  Lofty craned his head around the door, a gaggle of littling brothers clutching his legs. “Tomaaz! How did you get here? Don’t tell me you walked? Yesterday’s horse ride nearly did you in.”

  Tomaaz shrugged. “Can’t keep a good man down.” He went into the house and approached Ana. “Has Lovina taken her clear-mind berries yet?”

  “No, but she’s awake. Maybe you could try again.”

  All he’d done was soothe her with stories. The poor girl needed more than that. She needed a real healer, like Ma. Shards, where was Ma? Heading straight for tharuks? He swallowed, hoping she was all right.

  Lovina was hunched amid the crumpled bedding.

  “Good morning, Lovina.”

  Head tilted, she started, a curtain of lank hair falling over her thin face.

  Tomaaz sat down and started his story telling. He was soon interrupted by Ana, holding two bowls of steaming porridge laced with honey. After only eating flatbread for the last day, the aroma was like breathing in heaven.

  “Thank you.”

  “See if you can get her to eat,” Ana whispered. “She’s so thin.”

  Tomaaz carried the bowls to Lovina’s bedside, talking the entire way. “You must be hungry. This looks delicious. Here.” He put her bowl on the bedside table, sitting near her bed. Then he picked up his spoon and dug in. “Mm, Ana makes the best porridge in Lush Valley.”

  Lovina shook the hair out of her face. She flared her nostrils, licking her lips. Her hungry eyes watched his spoon go from his bowl to his mouth and back, twice, before he realized what the problem was.

  “Lovina, it’s not poisoned.” Using his spoon, Tomaaz ate a mouthful of her food. “See?”

  She shook her head, glancing at her own spoon.

  “And your spoon’s all right too. Look.” He used her spoon to take a mouthful from his bowl. “I can get you a fresh portion, if you want.”