Dragonjacks: Book 1 - The Shepherd: A Dragons of Cadwaller Novel

by Vickie Knestaut

  “Whoa!” Ren called. He twisted away from the man’s leg as if to hide his face from it.

  The dragonjack’s chest heaved and he groaned. His hands clenched into fists and he shook them at his side, gulped, and then went limp.

  “Make sure he’s not choking on his tongue!” Ander snapped and pointed back at Tyber.

  “What’s wrong with his leg?” Tyber asked as he pushed himself back onto his feet, then fell forward onto his knees. He looked down at the man. The redness in his face dissipated and left waxy, white flesh behind.

  “I’d say it's definitely broken,” Ren said, obviously trying hard not to look at it.

  Tyber’s gaze drifted to the man’s leg. The end of a bone poked out of the top of his shin, pressing against the fabric of a pair of coarse trousers.

  He swayed slightly, then looked back at the dragonjack. He was out cold.

  “How is he? Oh...” Dragoneer Kaylar said. Her face paled as she saw the man’s leg. “I want him taken back to Aerona. King Aymon will want to speak to him.”

  Ander nodded. “And this has something to do with why he wants to see us?”

  Dragoneer Kaylar nodded, then took a deep breath and looked about, scanning the sky. “I’ve never seen anything like that. We’ve dealt with dragonjack hordes before, but never a full horde like that.”

  “Neither have we,” Ander said.

  “We have a contraption to put him in,” Dragoneer Kaylar said. “A sling that can be applied to a dragon so that the injured can be transferred against a dragon’s belly.”

  “I wouldn’t want him against Maybelle’s belly,” Ren said, his voice low.

  “He’ll be bound,” Ander said. “Splint that leg, boys.”

  Chapter 2

  Aerona had grown since Tyber’s first visit in the summer. It seemed to be twice as large, at least. New cottages and buildings spread downriver and along the road. But nothing had been built beyond the sweeping berm, taller than a man, that encased the western side of the village like a crescent moon of stone.

  To the south, a huge pen housed over fifty massive beasts covered in blue-gray shaggy hair. The animals were as large as cottages, bigger than the dragons. They lumbered about in the pen, their hair shimmying with every move.

  Tyber shook his head. Aerona was like another world.

  The horde began to dip, and Tyber guided Rius to follow, still in a diamond formation with Ander, Ren, and Prince Winsom. They flew between the legs of the V formation, and as they descended, Dragoneer Kaylar began to signal for a healer. She repeated herself several times, and then guided the horde into an empty yard.

  As they landed, weyrboys and weyrgirls swept out of the weyr and toward the dragons. Their liveliness was a bit unsettling. They were nothing like the solemn, silent weyrboys back in the mother city. Instead, they chatted and laughed and were excited like children were supposed to be.

  Tyber perked up. “Nos?”

  His sister looked from Theola and Etipoe to Tyber and Rius. Her eyes grew huge in her tiny face. She stumbled, stopped, her mouth open. “Tyber!”

  Theola beamed over her shoulder as Nos raced forward, arms up and out, laughing. “Tyber! Tyber Tyber Tyber!”

  He swept off his restraints and slipped to the ground, landing in a crouch as Nos charged into him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and knocking him to the ground.

  Tyber laughed and hugged his sister tight as he rolled her off of him.

  “Tyber! You’ve been gone for so long I thought you weren’t ever coming back. But I’m so glad you did, I’ve missed you so much, we all have!”

  Nos stopped to catch a breath, then planted a kiss on his cheek. “You have a beard! Eww!”

  Tyber ruffled her hair and sat up. “I’m a hordesman now. Hordesmen have beards.”

  “Theola doesn’t,” Nos said with a shake of her head. She sat up, and the smile on her face threatened to tip her over. She was missing a tooth halfway back her jaw.

  “Well,” Tyber said, arching an eyebrow, “maybe she’s not really a hordesman? What do you think?”

  Nos shook her head side-to-side, her hair flying about her. “Nope! She’s a hordesman! I saw her fight! In the sky! The black dragons and the mountains fell!”

  Her cheeks puffed out as she made a crashing sound and dashed her hands down and spread them out.

  The smile fell from Tyber’s face. He’d heard about the battle with the Originals. He and Theola had spent the night trading stories after she and her horde escorted Prince Winsom to the mother city for Tyber’s graduation ceremony. Though he thought his tale of fighting the dragonjacks would impress his twin sister, her tale had left him stunned and in disbelief.

  “I’m going to be a hordesman, too!” Nos babbled on. “When I grow up they’ll let me ride a dragon but right now they say I’m too short and can’t reach the stirrups so they’re letting me be a weyrgirl until I grow as tall as Theola.”

  “She’s a weyrgirl?” Tyber asked as Theola stepped up to them.

  “Second weyr,” Theola said with a nod. “I even got Kaylar to let me have her for Etipoe.”

  “She says she’s going to feed me to her dragon! But Etipoe won’t eat me. She only likes the stinky meat.”

  “The what?” Tyber asked with a laugh.

  “The bunchback meat,” Theola said with a nod to the south.

  “Your description of them didn’t do them justice,” Tyber said, lifting himself to his feet.

  “By the way, what happened here?” Tyber asked Nos as he pointed to a tooth halfway back of his jaw.

  Nos dipped her head slightly and mashed her tongue into the empty tooth socket. Her eyes grew large again. “My teeth! I’m losing my baby teeth! I’ve lost seven already!” She held up her left hand, fingers splayed, and two fingers on her right hand.

  “Whoa. You can count?”

  Nos grinned and nodded. “I can count all the way up to...” Her eyes rolled toward the sky. “One hundred!”

  “Wow,” Tyber said as he crouched again, putting himself at Nos’ eye level. “That’s amazing! Are there even that many numbers?”

  Nos giggled and dipped forward, her nose nearly touching Tyber’s. “I’ve missed you, Tyber!”

  She threw her arms around his neck and mashed herself against his shoulder. Tyber patted her back and looked up at the beaming Theola.

  “Nos,” Theola said, laying the tips of her fingers on the girl’s head. “Etipoe has had a long flight home. I think she’d like to get in bed and rest a while.”

  Nos’ grip on Tyber tightened for a second, and then she released him, nodding and looking back and forth between Tyber and Theola. She started for the dark gray dragon, then stopped and turned back, her face wide with concern.

  “Are you leaving?”

  Tyber glanced at Ander and Ren and Prince Winsom. The two older men smiled with delight at the little girl. Ren stood with his arms crossed before himself, his eyebrow hitched in disbelief as he stared at Tyber.

  “He’ll be leaving soon,” Prince Winsom said. “But he’ll be here for a day at least.”

  “I’ll go with you!” Nos said. “I’ll fly Etipoe and we can—”

  “Dragon. Bed. Now,” Theola called, pointing to the weyr.

  Nos lowered her head slightly, nodded, and hurried on to the dragon.

  Ander and Prince Winsom chuckled.

  “Sorry,” Theola said to the Prince as if talking to the royal family of Cadwaller was commonplace.

  “It’s nice to be missed,” Tyber said as he watched his younger sister scurry over to Etipoe. When the weyrboys at the academy led the dragons in and out of the weyr, it didn’t seem strange in the least. But to see common-looking children no taller than his waist lead dragons around by leather cords as if they were puppies was quite another thing altogether.

  “Winsom,” a woman called from behind them.

  The Prince looked over his shoulder. “Trysten!”

  He turned and threw his arms out. A
young woman hardly older than Tyber rushed up and hugged the Prince, rocking with his embrace, smiling broadly.

  “How is Aymon?” the Prince asked as Trysten stepped back.

  She rolled her eyes. “Same as always. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he actually misses the war.”

  Prince Winsom rolled his shoulder in half a shrug. “It was his chief concern for most of his life.”

  A look passed between the two of them, a falter in their smiles, as if in the blink of an eye they each mourned someone lost.

  “Trysten. I want you to meet some good people. This is Ander of Cadwaller.”

  Ander bowed at the waist.

  “And Ren of Cadwaller.”

  Ren nodded.

  “And Tyber of Cadwaller"

  Tyber bowed at the neck.

  "And this is Wing Master Trysten of Aerona."

  She nodded to each of them, then looked up at Rius and back to Tyber.

  "Wow," she said. "Your eyes are the exact color of your dragon."

  Tyber looked at Rius, feeling a bit of heat press into his cheeks.

  "And what a beautiful dragon she is," Trysten went on, turning back to Rius. "Aren't you?"

  Rius shuffled her wings, then spread them wide. Tyber looked over his shoulder at the brilliant display, admiring the bright blue wing membranes that faded quickly to black along the trailing edge where they were speckled with white dots like the eyes of the gods peering at them through the night sky.

  "Yes, I remember you," Trysten said to Rius with a nod. She grinned broadly and turned to Tyber. "She adores you, I hope you know."

  Fire blossomed across Tyber's cheeks. He couldn't help but smile. As he averted his eyes, he found people staring at Rius from all over the yard.

  "This is Maybelle," Ren said, sweeping his hand back at his dragon.

  "Maybelle?" Trysten asked. "That's an unusual name for a dragon."

  "She adores me, too, huh?" Ren asked as he beamed up at the dragon’s teal face. Maybelle’s attention was squarely on Rius' wings as the dragon folded them and laid them along her back.

  "Well," Trysten said, "she's learning to appreciate you."

  Ander stifled a laugh as Ren whipped his head around. Tyber concealed a grin as he looked back to Rius and extended his hand to her. She lowered her head and sniffed at the tips of his fingers.

  "Shall we meet with the King now?" Ander asked.

  Prince Winsom held up his palms. "Not yet. I'm sure he's eager to discuss his reasons for bringing you here, but I wish to speak to him first. Furthermore, our prisoner might provide more information. And finally, we've all had a long trip from the mother city. I think you should take the evening to rest. We'll meet with my brother and Trysten in the morning."

  "You have a prisoner?" Trysten asked and peered into the crowd of people and dragons.

  "I'll tell you all about it the first chance I get," Prince Winsom said.

  Ander nodded. "Very well."

  "But first," Prince Winsom said, turning to Trysten. "Should we keep our dragons in the eighth weyr?"

  Trysten nodded. "There's plenty of room in there. And that's where I'm keeping Verana."

  "Very well. I’ll escort the three of you to the weyr, and after that, you may have the evening free to do as you please. I assume you'll be staying with your family?" Prince Winsom said to Tyber.

  Tyber nodded, and a flash of uncertainty flooded through him. What would it be like to see them after so much change?

  "And you two," Prince Winsom said to Ander and Ren, "may stay at the local inn and tell the innkeeper that you are my guests. He will settle your accounts with me."

  "Thank you," Ander said.

  "Shall we?" Prince Winsom asked, and then with a nod to Trysten, he turned back to the saddle and stirrups of No Regret.

  After a short hop across the village to another weyr, Tyber tended to Rius while looking around. The weyr was new construction and still smelled of freshly milled wood. Light streamed in from high windows. It was much brighter than the royal weyr back in the mother city. When Tyber had first taken Rius there after his graduation ceremony, he'd been struck by the stonework. Columns rose from the floor between each stall, and at the top of each, a carved dragon sat with its head up, wings spread as if supporting the weight of the roof. It looked and felt more like a cathedral than a weyr.

  But here, in Aerona, the construction was simple. Little ornamentation. All function.

  He brushed at Rius' scales and half-listened as Ander fended off Ren's wild speculation of why the King would summon them of all people.

  It had been a strange week. A horde of women, including Theola, had escorted Prince Winsom to the mother city for the graduation. They’d been chosen for no other reason than most of the women were from the mother city, and the Prince thought they might enjoy a chance to check on family and friends.

  And on the way back to Aerona, Prince Winsom had spent the evenings with Ander, Ren, and Tyber as if he were just another hordesman on the wing. He told jokes, and if they fell flat, he'd make fun of himself. He did not expect to be served by anyone. He helped himself to food. He pitched his own tent.

  Tyber put away his gear, then fed Rius and promised that he'd check on her that evening, probably with his brothers and sisters in tow. He smiled at the dragon and recalled the tone of Trysten's voice as she told him that Rius adored him. She was the dragon queen of Aerona. She was supposed to know the hearts and minds of dragons in a way that none could. Dragons from everywhere flocked to be among her horde.

  "But you're all mine, aren't you?" Tyber asked.

  Rius sniffed at his fingers as if he were hiding another bunchback steak. He grinned and rubbed her nose. He had no other reason to linger in the weyr. It was time to go see his family.

  He parted ways with Ander and Ren after Prince Winsom told him how to get back to the second weyr. Although Aerona was nothing like the narrow, winding passages and alleyways that made up the mother city, he still managed to get lost. But the people were kind, smiling as they told him which of the eight weyrs visible from the top of the hill was the one he wanted. And they did so with an attitude of... It was hard to say. They were pleasant. And didn't appear to be put out. Almost happy to help, but they also seemed as if giving directions to strangers was just a normal part of their days.

  Finally, Tyber made his way to the second weyr and found Theola and Nos still tending to Etipoe along with a thin, young man who was slightly taller than Theola.

  "Is there something wrong?" Tyber asked as he approached.

  Theola turned to him and smiled.

  "Tyber!" Nos called and attached herself to his thigh.

  The young man smiled at Tyber. He held a small box with a pale, fat-colored ointment inside. The pungent odor of dragon salve wafted about him.

  "This is my brother, Tyber," Theola said to the man. "Tyber of Cadwaller. And this is Zet, a journeyman dragon healer of the Aerona swell."

  "Hello," Zet said with a nod beneath a mop of curly hair. He held up his hand in greeting. His fingers glistened with the salve.

  "Nice to meet you," Tyber said with a smile. He looked from Zet to Theola. "Is Etipoe injured?"

  "She took an arrow to the flank," Theola said. "Lost a few scales."

  "One of the more mundane tasks I've had to do today," Zet said as his attention went back to the bit of exposed pink and red flesh. He swiped his fingers through the balm and dabbed at the wound again.

  Etipoe grumbled and looked back at him.

  "It's all right, girl," Theola said, reaching up and holding the sides of the dragon's jaw. "Zettie will be done with you in a second."

  "Zettie?" Tyber asked.

  Zet blushed, then stood up straight, making a show of eyeing his work. He nodded, then handed the box off to Theola before reaching for a rag that hung from his belt.

  "What about the hordesman who was wounded?" Tyber asked. "I saw... what was her name? She was clutching her thigh after the battle."
<
br />   "Kettum," Theola said with a nod. She threaded around Zet and carried the box back to her tack trunk. "I heard she has a pretty good gash along her leg. Gouged by an arrow. The healer is back in the bunk hall with her now."

  "I think that'll be it," Zet said as he wiped his hands on the rag. "I'll come back tomorrow morning and take another look, make sure nothing exciting is happening."

  Theola smiled at him. "That would be nice."

  More color flushed through Zet's cheeks as he retrieved a basket from the ground by his feet. He carried it away, jars and canisters clinking as he went.

  Tyber turned to Theola. "Zettie?"

  Theola rolled her eyes. "It's what we all call him. Gets him flustered."

  "Because you want to fluster the man in charge of making sure your dragons are in good health?" Tyber asked.

  "Can we go home now?" Nos pleaded.

  Tyber ruffled her hair and rested his palm on the back of her head. "Why? You got nothing else that needs done? I thought I saw a stall in here that could use mucking out."

  Nos' eyes went wide. She shook her head. "Not my job! I can’t wait to tell everyone you’re back! Come on! Let's go home!" She slipped out from beneath Tyber’s hand, grabbed it with both of hers and yanked, leaning her weight into it.

  "You have no choice," Theola said. "You are her prisoner now."

  "That's right!" Nos barked. "You have no choice!"

  Tyber chuckled. "If you say so."

  They strolled out of the weyr, Nos yanking on Tyber's hand the whole way.

  Chapter 3

  "I saw you met Trysten," Theola said as she and Tyber set off for the cottage, Nos skipping in the lane ahead of them.

  Tyber nodded, then looked around at the village again. There was so much space. And so much sky. The lanes were spread far apart compared to the mother city. The only buildings taller than the single story cottages were barns and weyrs. He was used to being tucked down in narrow alleys, looking up and seeing the sky like a crack in the dome of the city, something beyond him.

  Until he was given a dragon.

  "What did you think?" Theola asked.