Blood and Royalty
DRAGONEER SAGA BOOK SIX
M.R. Mathias
Blood and Royalty - Dragoneer Saga Book Six
Copyright 2014 by Michael Robb Mathias Jr.
All Rights Reserved
Table of Contents
PART I: The Dragon King Cometh
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
PART II: Blood
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
PART III: The Lesser of Two Evils
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
PART IV: Fire and Ice
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
PART V: Blood and Royalty
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
This one is for Allyson, Braxton, Amelia, Ethan, Nathan, Carson, Carley and all the other Dragoneers I have had the joy of sharing time with.
And for my sister Michelle and my brother William, and their children; Warren Jr, and Kay Lynn Duke, and Lilyanna, Ethen, and Westin Mathias.
I wish I knew all of you better. Now that you are closer, who knows? Maybe I’ll come take you for a ride on my dragon.
PART I
The Dragon King Cometh
Chapter One
Her lips tasted like honey the first time they kissed, and Marcherion would never forget the way his heart was beating and the butterflies in his stomach as they laughed in the grassy meadow that afternoon. She had long brown hair, deep brown eyes and a smile that gave him pause every time he saw it.
“I want to give you sons, and daughters, and dance with you under the moon,” she said.
“I’d like that,” was all he could say, and even that came out in a mumble, because it was amazing to him. He ached about it all, and it was driving him insane keeping the truth from her.
That was weeks ago, and her affections had only grown stronger since. He was going to take a chance this evening and tell it all as it was. He could only hope she loved him enough to understand.
He watched Desira dancing as she sang her heart away before the crowd in the half-filled tavern. She was so beautiful, and he wished he could stay and have a life with her. She expected a proposal or some such, but he didn’t think his story would go over well.
It seemed like forever since he’d been free of worry, out hunting with Rikky Camile, or Aikira. Desira was a wonderful girl, but she didn’t know about Blaze, or that he was a Dragoneer, or that another continent even existed -- but she said she wanted to bear his children. To him, that said it all.
March took another sip of ale and fought back a tear.
He was tempted to stay, but he’d seen firsthand what was happening in Vikaria and knew in his heart that he couldn’t. How Jenka’s blasted brother had escaped his island was a tale told a hundred different ways, but the fact that he had, and had managed to take over a new kingdom, and was controlling mudged dragons again, was a reality. He was sure the Dragoneers knew about it. He’d spoken with Aikira in some kind of dream, when she cast a spell that carried her ethereal song this far around the world, but he wasn’t able to tell her the thick of it.
Everyone here in the Old World thought the dragon riders from the New were some evil group of Clover’s lot who had usurped a good, if demanding, young king. Hell, he’d heard tales of Clover and her ornery dragon, Crimzon, and their legendary, heroic, and sometimes terrible, escapades in both song and tale since he was a child. Now, rumors that the Dragoneers were evil, and led by some green-eyed demon who had dethroned the true king, were being spread. No one had bothered to tell these people about Gravelbone or the Confliction at first; not until trade actually began with the other Karian kingdoms did they learn, and even then only a few knew that Richard had been tainted by that horn-headed demon’s evil. No one, however, could doubt King Jenka’s strangeness, or the way the Dragoneers more or less held reign over that part of the world.
March had been planning on leaving for days, to call out to Rikky and Jenka with all he had, but he couldn’t just leave Desira without an explanation. And his heart kept telling him that he could lose himself in her arms and forget it all. Her father’s inn wasn’t the place to see if she would understand, and this wasn’t the proper time, so he dropped a handwritten note and a sack of coins in her bag and left.
He went to the alley and began pacing back and forth, trying to formulate the words he would use. He had to tell her about Blaze, but with Richard sending small packs of mudged out to harry every kingdom that wasn’t under his wing, and rumors of evil dragon riders, everyone was too afraid of dragons.
He and Brendly Tuck had some laughs and a nice reunion, but once he’d told his best friend about Blaze, he’d been shunned. Brendly gave him the old sword they’d used to bind Bren’s leg and get him out of the mountains so long ago, but he was no longer cordial.
March had sworn his life to fight the Confliction that day, just to give Brendly his life back, but that stupid gaboon didn’t know any of that. It struck March’s heart like a hammer-blow when Bren asked him to stay away from his family for good.
March’s own family had little to say to him either, for he had left without a word to any of them. Other than Desira, who wanted to make a home and start a family with him, his return had been mostly miserable.
The note he’d left with the few dozen gold pieces asked Desira to meet him at the cabin he’d built by the lake. It took March a while to figure out how he would handle the situation, and he decided that he would tell her he had to leave, but he was so sick over it that he wanted to pen it all and go. There was no way he could face her.
Come, Blaze, March said into the ethereal. Meet me in the woods. I’ll write her my feelings and leave them at the cabin for her to find.
Yesss, Blaze responded.
March met his sizable red-scaled wyrm in the woods, climbed into the saddle, and they started winging their way over the forest toward the lake.
The night sky was cloudy and darker than usual, and there was a hint of static in the air, as if it might soon storm. When King Richard and his Nightshade swept out of the clouds and attacked, it was a total surprise. Before either of them knew what was happening, Marcherion was clutched in the Nightshade’s claws and being ripped from his saddle.
I’ve a thought for you to deliver to my brother and the Dragoneers, Richard said into March’s head.
The Nightshade climbed higher, up out of the clouds into the bright, starry sky, as March listened, dangling, to the crazed king’s message. March felt Richard force himself into his mind with a dark aggressiveness more powerful than anything he’d ever felt before.
I’m coming home to take back my kingdom. Richard’s tone was commanding and confident, and in the mental imprint he snarled. I look forward to the slow destruction of everything you Dragoneers love, so even when Jenka and Zahrellion beg for a truce, my army will continue to soak the Mainland in blood.
Then March was falling through a storm, afraid of something far worse than a life-ending smash into the ground.
*
“It is your ninth birthday, Amelia. Please!” Zahrellion
pleaded.
The pale-skinned girl was levitated about a foot off of the floor with her legs crossed and her eyes rolled back into her unusually round-shaped face. Her bright red hair was usually in a nest, but today it was combed, and at least she was properly dressed. They were late and expected.
“Don’t be like your father.”
They were at the new Three Forks Palace, which was well crafted of carved stone and iron, and as strong as a hold could be. It boasted beautiful towers that reached to the heavens. They were topped with copper roofs that hadn’t lost their shine yet and looked like molten gold. It hadn’t quite become the home for which Zah had hoped, though. With Marcherion still gone, Rikky at Kingsman’s Keep training Prince Jericho’s personal guard, and Jenka always mentally drifting, it had become a sort of hell. Even Aikira spent the majority of her time elsewhere, but she had a family and always made time eventually. Now, Zah’s daughter was drifting through the same inexplicable worlds that her father was, and they needed to go.
It pained Zah to think ill of her own child, but Amelia wasn’t normal. Clover called her a mystica, once, whatever that was. The hair color was one thing, for Zah’s own hair was as white as fresh snow and many saw her as strange, too. It was more than that. As Amelia grew, the rich green of her eyes was gaining a lime tint that made her just plain unnerving to behold. She was smarter than everyone, save her father, who seemed to know everything there was to know. The people of the kingdom whispered in fear of her, but many a young lass had tinted her hair red and powdered her face white in mimicry. She was the opposite of her brother, who just happened to stick his head in and help.
“Come on, Sis. It is time,” he said simply. He was the epitome of a good prince, and everyone loved him, especially his sister.
Her eyes fluttered and then focused on him, then they met Zahrellion’s.
“Sorry, Mother.” She shrugged, uncrossed her legs, and smoothly stood. “I was communicating with Father and Lord Commander Marcherion Weston. We are about to be at war.”
“That isn’t his title, Milly.” Prince Jericho pinkened as he made sure she didn’t drift off again by taking her hand and leading her. “I was saying that if I were the king, I’d-”
Zahrellion was amazed by her teenage son’s ability to be so dashing, but what was this stuff about war and a Lord Commander?
“What are you saying, Amelia?” Zahrellion asked as they breezed past her into the hall. It looked as if Jericho were pulling his sister on a small rolling cart or a wagon, but there was nothing between her feet and the ground, save for a handspan of air. “And, please, when we are on the dais, walk. Walk like a normal girl.”
“War is coming.” Amelia frowned. “I am not a normal girl, Mother, so why should I act like one? You should want me to act like myself.”
Zahrellion suddenly felt guilty, and the fact that she knew she was being manipulated by a nine-year-old anomaly only made her feel worse.
“No, Jericho.” Amelia used her brother’s grip to steady herself as she took to the floor. She came up to her brother’s waist and was so thin she almost seemed sickly. “Father just gave him the title, and Marcherion agreed to come home and help defend the kingdom from Richard and his dragon swarm.” As if the pending attack meant nothing, Amelia tugged at her mother’s sleeve twice and giggled like the child she was. “Clover is coming, too. They all are, even Uncle Rikky.”
“You’ve lost it,” Jericho joked, but his smile faded when they heard Silva’s distinct roar from outside the palace.
After Clover had broken Rikky’s heart, he wouldn’t leave the keep unless absolutely necessary. If he was here, it was because Marcherion was coming, or Jenka had asked him.
Another dragon roared, high over them, but loud enough to be heard. Then there was a scream and the concussive sound of destructive magic out in the city.
Mudgesss, Crystal hissed into Zahrellion’s mind. Get the children to meess now.
Chapter Two
“He has a few thousand, at the very least,” Marcherion explained to Jenka, Aikira and Clover, who were all gathered at Clover’s castle waiting for Rikky and Zahrellion. “And he is riding that blasted demon wyrm. He told me to tell Rikky that he killed Herald because the old fart killed Royal’s twin. He is stronger than even Gravelbone was. He nearly ended me had Blaze not been keen enough to snatch me from my fall.”
Jenka was dressed in green, and brown that matched his eyes, and he was wearing triangular-shaped shoulder armor very similar to the piece he wore back when March first met him. Only this newer gear was worth all the gold they had ever dreamed about back then.
Aikira still looked like an ebon goddess, in a long, yellow cloak over golden mail, belted at the waist with an ornate girdle. Clover, though, was clad, or not so clad, in the skimpiest set of clothing he had ever seen. She had only plated gauntlets and knee-high boots to protect her. The rest of her clothing did well to cover her feminine parts at all.
Mudges are attacking Three Forks, Rikky called out. Half a dozen of them or more.
“It has started, then.” This came from Linux, who just as always, somehow seemed to appear in the room with them.
March scowled at him, because Linux was still in poor Rolf’s body.
“He will do this,” March went on, as if Rikky shouldn’t need any help with just half a dozen mudged. “He will poke and stab and irritate us with his mudged until we are weak.”
Marcherion was left dumbfounded when he saw Jenka suddenly rise and step into a blur of motion, then disappear in a speedy streak of green.
“He does that sometimes,” Clover grinned, and March suddenly felt like a fresh slab of meat before a lioness.
“Should we go help them?”
Clover shook her fiery red mane. “Milly could kill that threat with a thought.”
“Milly?” March asked.
“Excuse me,” Clover chuckled. “Princess Amelia, Jenka’s daughter.”
“This means the attack a few weeks ago on Gull’s Reach wasn’t random,” Linux said.
“They will take Gull’s Reach first.” March knew this in his heart, as he’d long ago taken to studying tactics when he wasn’t hunting with Rikky. He’d studied from the same volumes Richard had. “They will then take Freeman’s Reach, and then King’s Island. Only after they’ve established themselves out there could they attack the Mainland.”
“If Richard was sane, I’d agree.” Clover’s mischievous look vanished, and her naturally green eyes bore into Marcherion’s like Jenka’s sometimes used to.
“He might have studied strategy with smart men and decided to take the kingdom seat first.” She shrugged at March and then looked at Linux. “He might just distract us with the mudged and try to kill his brother. If he does that, no one can deny his claim to the throne.”
*
When Jenka and Jade came slamming out of their hyper- movement over Three Forks, Jenka had to take a second to gather himself. Moving a hundred times faster than the world around them came naturally, but the moments of transition were disorienting at best. After taking in his surroundings, he was faced with a hard decision. He could feel his daughter and son. They were together and most likely on Crystal with their mother. He could see Rikky defending their escape from the trio of mudged that were pursuing, but two other mudged were attacking the town square. One building was already afire, and several of the good folk dead or maimed.
Jenka decided he didn’t have to make a choice, and he and Jade went back into hyper motion. A few heartbeats later, one of the mudged attacking the people was spiderwebbed over with crackling emerald energy. Then, in a bright yellowy flare, it disappeared from the sky.
The other tainted wyrm was sending weak gouts of flame into a huddle of people it had cornered. None of the blasts were harsh enough to kill them, but they were all blistered and hairless, and probably blinded.
Jade carried Jenka around in an arcing turn that would take them right over the low buildings. He ended up comin
g right at the mudged head-on. Everything around them was moving so slowly that Jenka took a few moments to contemplate whether he was actually moving faster than them all, or if he had gained the power to slow the world around him instead. Seeing Silva and three mudged dragons frozen in the distant sky made him think it was him moving faster, and not the other way around. Seeing them also brought his drifting mind back on track, and as they came back around, Jade sent out a pulse of force that went streaking from his maw but slowed to real speed just before it impacted and removed the mudged’s head. With a whack of his tail, Jade made sure the dead wyrm’s bulk would fall away from the crowd it had hemmed in, and then they were speeding toward Rikky.
*
Rikky knew Jenka was helping when the mudged wyrm farthest from him was enveloped in a sudden crackling yellow webbing and just vanished. He was thankful, for he had been training with men so much he’d almost forgotten what the dragon saddle felt like.
He had never been one to use magic to fight with, save for the few times he’d had no other choice, so he was relying on Silva and his bow, not his dragon tear’s magic.
Silva twisted through the sky, her smaller form undulating with her powerful wing beats. She put herself before one of the two mudged, forcing it to stall its forward motion and rear up in the sky. When it did, she blasted forth a gout of molten pewter spew that engulfed the surprised mudged’s head.
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