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

by Vickie Knestaut

  As Tyber, Ren, and Ander approached the King’s cottage, a small, green dragon zipped past them.

  "Whoa! Is that a whelp?" Ren asked.

  "Whelp? No. I believe that's a wild dragon," Ander said.

  The dragon banked, almost slithering through the air before turning back the way it came. It was the size of a large dog. Tyber had never seen anything like it.

  "Wild dragon? I thought those were only out in the Wilds," Ren said.

  "The Wilds are just over there," Ander said, pointing toward the mountains that rose sharply from the rolling hills several miles away.

  As they stepped up to the King's cottage, Tyber caught sight of Trysten walking down the lane. She smiled and waved to a passerby, said something and shared a short laugh. In her brief pause, the wild dragon altered its course so that it looked like a moth fluttering around the blonde flame of the wing master.

  "The dragon queen," Tyber said.

  "Wow," Ren said. "Can you imagine that? She must just collect dragons like lint."

  Ander knocked on the cottage door. It was answered by a man with a clean-shaven face and neatly trimmed hair. He was about Tyber's age and he looked the three of them over as if waiting for them to get on with the act of stating their business.

  "I am Ander of Cadwaller, accompanied by Ren and Tyber of Cadwaller. We are here to answer His Majesty's summons."

  The man nodded quickly, then stepped back, opening the door.

  Tyber stepped in after Ren and Ander. The interior of the cottage was smaller than the one his family lived in now. Only one door exited off of the back. But whether or not the King was back there wasn't immediately apparent. The man who sat before them looked enough like Prince Winsom that they were obviously brothers. Yet no crown rested on his head. No scepter or garish jewel-encrusted sword sat at his side. He wore a simple white shirt, a purple jerkin, and dark gray slacks that draped over his thin legs.

  Recognition flooded through Tyber. He'd met this man once in the halls of the academy. Before he became King. Prince Aymon. And he'd suggested that Tyber came from a family without nobility.

  Prince Aymon—King Aymon smiled at the man who had let them in. "You are dying to introduce them, aren't you?"

  "Not really," the man said as a slight blush colored his face.

  "It's good to see you again, Your Highness," Ander said with a nod. "You are looking well."

  The smile faded from the King's face, then he looked back to the clean-shaven man and held out his hand. "This is Brand of Aerona, my valet."

  "Good to meet you, sirs," Brand said with a slight bow.

  The door at the back opened, and Prince Winsom entered the room.

  "Good morning," he said with a nod. "Brand, would you please be so kind as to put some water on for everyone?"

  Brand moved to the fireplace, and with an iron hook taken from the mantle, he lifted a kettle from the hob and carried it toward a sideboard across the room.

  "Thank you for your prompt arrival," King Aymon said. "I have summoned you here because I have a special mission for the three of you."

  Prince Winsom sat in a chair, and as soon as he crossed his ankle over his knee, a knock came at the door. He started to stand, but Brand swept over and opened the door.

  "Trysten!" Brand called. "It's nice to see you."

  "How have you been?" Trysten asked.

  "Good. Good. And Yallit there?"

  "You stay!"

  Tyber looked over his shoulder as Trysten wagged a finger at the wild dragon as if scolding a dog.

  She slipped inside, greeted them, and stood beside Ren on Tyber's left, grasping her wrist behind her back.

  "I understand you men served alongside Dragoneer Malcums and his horde at the academy," King Aymon said.

  "That is correct," Ander said.

  "So you know what happened to my brother Regis on his way here with Dragoneer Malcums' horde."

  Tyber nodded even though it was a statement, and not a question.

  "Your classmates fought well that day, I am told," Aymon said with a nod in Prince Winsom's direction. “The dragoneer of the dragonjacks was killed that day, and the horde absconded. Several of those dragons then made their way to Aerona where they were swept into Trysten's horde while still bearing their riders.”

  Tyber's back tightened.

  "Trysten questioned the riders, and she found that the men were not merely common outlaws, but mercenaries. They had been hired specifically to attack my brother's caravan and kill him. The prisoner who spoke had been hired by a man known simply as The Shepherd. As you might imagine, I have a great interest in speaking to this man. The three of you will track him down and bring him to me alive."

  Ren shuffled on his feet. King Aymon looked at him.

  "By your wish, Your Majesty," Ander said, bowing slightly at the neck.

  "Just somewhere in the kingdom?" Ren asked. "We're looking for a man who goes by The Shepherd, and he might be somewhere in the kingdom?"

  Tyber's eyes went wide as he stared at the King.

  A slight grin passed over King Aymon's face. "I wouldn't ask something so challenging of you. The mercenary was hired in a tavern in Iangan. It is a small village to the northeast of here, almost at the Wight river."

  "I can show you where it's at," Trysten said as she looked at Ren, then Ander. "I have maps of the kingdom."

  "The three of you will proceed to Iangan where you will pose as dragonjacks."

  Tyber's jaw tightened.

  "There, you will put up a convincing story and make contact with The Shepherd. You will either apprehend him, or you will call on a horde if you cannot do it yourselves."

  "It will be done, Your Highness," Ander said with a nod.

  "I know it will be," King Aymon said. "I have the utmost confidence in your ability to complete this assignment."

  Ren began to hold up his hand as if he were still in the academy, and then let it drop. King Aymon arched an eyebrow at him.

  "I don't mean to question your orders, sir, but I want to make sure you do in fact have the best guys for the job. My dragon hardly listens to me, Tyber is so wild stiff that he creaks when he walks, and Ander there just looks like Mr. Academy. How do you expect us to pull this off?"

  Prince Winsom buried a grin beneath the palm of his hand.

  "I have been informed that the three of you are indeed the best men for the job. Ander has been an instructor at the academy for eight years. Before that, he was a royal hordesman for four. Before that, he grew up in one of the rougher neighborhoods in the mother city. His experience will be invaluable to you. As an instructor, he is not widely traveled outside the city, and more importantly, not widely known outside of the city. Tyber, I have been told, is from the same neighborhood and fell into the academy after getting into trouble while running around with petty thieves."

  Tyber averted his eyes to the floor.

  "He will not be completely outside of his element, and his natural awkwardness will help mask any awkwardness he may be feeling as a result of having to deceive thieves. And you, Ren, may have come from a better neighborhood and background, but your penchant for backtalk, mischief, and cynicism, not to mention your... strenuous relationship with your dragon makes it easy to believe that you and your friend fled on absconded dragons after your dragoneer died in an accident, about which you will be purposefully vague if pressed for details. After roaming around a few days, you came on Ander, a hordesman who decided to leave the service after the rest of his horde was slaughtered in a Western attack. He took your dragons into his own horde, and the three of you are now trying to avoid capture by the King's forces while retaining your mounts."

  "But Listico isn’t an alpha," Ren pressed.

  "We are aware of that, hordesman," King Aymon said, then turned to Ander. "I am afraid that I must insist that Listico remain in the weyrs of Aerona. In the meantime, Trysten is prepared to bond you to Verana, one of Aerona's own dragons. Tyber and Ren, since your dragons are you
ng enough to still be in their surrogate bonds, they will be bonded to Verana."

  "The real reason you were chosen for this mission," Prince Winsom added from his chair.

  King Aymon nodded as he looked at Tyber. "The surrogate bond can be broken easily. Trysten has unique abilities that will allow her to bind a person to an alpha without that person being a true dragoneer."

  "So I won't really be a dragoneer, then?" Ander asked.

  "As far as Verana is concerned, you are a dragoneer. But you will not carry the rank among the King's hordes. However, since Verana will believe it, so will her hordesmates, Rius and Maybelle. And their riders, I might add."

  Tyber rocked back on his heels slightly. His stomach tightened as his head tried to work through what he thought he was hearing.

  "And then what?" Ren asked. "If Ander isn't really a dragoneer, what will happen when the mission is over?"

  "Didn't I tell you?" Prince Winsom asked, holding his palm out as if presenting something to his brother.

  "Indeed you did," King Aymon said with a nod.

  "Tell you what?" Ren asked.

  "I wanted the most un-hordesmen like hordesmen the academy had to offer. Your names floated immediately to the top of the list."

  "Hey!" Ren said.

  "I assure you the recruits are trained far better than this, Your Highness," Ander said.

  King Aymon held up a palm to silence Ander while he stared at Ren. "We require flexibility from time to time. After all, the average hordesman would be sniffed out immediately, and the mission would fail. But I believe you can make a convincing show of not being able to cut it among the ranks, and that will get you and your friends quite far."

  Ren's brow furrowed. "Thanks, I think."

  King Aymon put his hand in his lap. "Don't thank me yet. These men killed the heir to the throne. They will not hesitate to kill each of you if they suspect who you truly are. As such, once you leave here, you will follow Trysten to the eighth weyr and do exactly as she says. The bonding will take place a distance from here, away from prying eyes."

  King Aymon turned to Tyber. "I understand you have family in the village."

  Tyber nodded. "Yes, Your Highness."

  "Theola is quite a formidable warrior. I am proud to have her among our ranks. She has distinguished herself in battle, both in the sky and on the ground. That is another reason you have been selected. I hope such courage and nobility is a family trait."

  Tyber nodded. "It is, Your Highness."

  King Aymon smiled. "As I believe you have told me once before. Trysten will let your family know that you have been sent on a mission since you will be leaving directly from here.”

  The King turned to Ander. “After Trysten has bonded your dragons, you will fly until you are half a day beyond the horizon. You will land, change into the clothes of commoners, which will be provided before you leave, and burn your uniforms. From there, you will fly to Iangan and you will not return to Aerona until you either bring The Shepherd, or you come for a full horde to help you apprehend him. Is that understood?"

  Tyber nodded. The words had flown past him. He had a mission to complete. He was to find and capture someone. But his head could not wrap around the fact that Rius was going to be bound to a dragon of Aerona. Not to mention that Prince Aymon, no King Aymon, remembered their interaction in the halls of the academy. What type of king remembers the commoners that cross his path? Maybe Father was right about him.

  Ren held his index finger up before himself.

  "Yes?" King Aymon asked.

  "Then what? What happens after we bring The Shepherd back? Do we go back with Ander and patrol the mother city with a horde of three?"

  King Aymon considered Ren a second, then placed his elbows on the arms of his chair. It wasn't until that point that Tyber noticed a wheel attached to the bottom of each leg, as if the chair could be pushed around.

  He'd heard that King Aymon wasn’t able to walk, but it hadn't seemed real. A king who couldn't walk? Surely it only meant that he walked with a limp, or he tired easily.

  Tyber had seen King Aymon's father once standing on the balcony overlooking the bailey and the plaza of the mother city, decked out in jewels and gold chains, a crown on his head, a jeweled scepter at his side. He'd raised his arms above his head as if inviting all below to marvel at his magnificence, and the good luck that blessed the people of Cadwaller that they could call such a man king.

  But his son couldn't look further from the part. His father had been a large man, full in the cheek and broad in the belly. Aymon was gaunt, his cheekbones sharp and eyes sunken slightly like a man who only bothered to eat when he needed to. His legs looked so thin. A full beard fell down his chin, stopping about the middle of his chest. It was neatly trimmed and oiled, and a dark, solid brown. Yet the man's expressions shifted quickly and rapidly, wavering from those of a thirty-year-old man to one as old as Tyber’s father.

  He was no king. And yet he was. Here in this humble cottage. His entire court packed into this one, small space as if they were no better than Tyber's own people.

  "I'm afraid I don't have a good answer for you, yet, hordesman,” King Aymon said. “Once you apprehend The Shepherd, I may have further assignments for you. Your top priority is to bring me The Shepherd alive, but if at all possible, preserve your cover. We may need you to go back."

  "The rot runs deep, does it?" Ren asked.

  King Aymon’s eyes narrowed. He stared at Ren a few seconds, then nodded. "It may. Please be sure to let me know. Dismissed, hordesmen."

  Chapter 6

  Ander bowed, and Tyber drifted through the motions in a slow echo, then followed Ander into the lane. Sun glared over the horizon and drove Tyber's eyes into a squint.

  Trysten said something to Ander. He smiled and nodded, and the two of them started for the eighth weyr. Tyber fell in behind them, unsure of what to make of what had just happened.

  Rius was about to be bonded to an Aerona dragon.

  "Hey, you all right?" Ren asked, his voice soft as he fell in beside Tyber and slowed to keep his distance from Trysten and Ander.

  "Did you hear that?" Tyber asked. "We're going to be bonded to an Aerona dragon?"

  Ren stuffed his hands up under the hem of his sweater, balling them together at his belly. His gaze narrowed on the back of Trysten, and his gait slowed a bit more, forcing Tyber to fall back some in order to keep abreast of him.

  “I’m not crazy about it. I don’t like it all, really.” Ren shook his head. “I didn’t sign up to be shipped off to the far-flung reaches of the kingdom.”

  Tyber cocked an eyebrow. “Who are you kidding? You signed up for the silver.”

  Ren looked at Tyber. “Yeah, but silver in the mother city. I didn’t think—”

  “Oh, come on! You thought we were going to be sent off to the war. That’s what you said all through the academy. That you were going to get yourself failed out before they could send you off to the war. And now the war is over.”

  Ren looked back to Trysten and Ander. He shook his head.

  “Why wouldn’t you want to be stationed here?” Tyber pressed. “It’s not like you and your father get along well. And you have no other family that you’ve mentioned to me. Why wouldn’t you like being stationed in Aerona? This place is incredible. Have you noticed the smell?”

  “You mean the bunchbacks?” Ren asked as he cocked his head back toward the south, where the giant, smelly beasts were kept in a pen.

  “No!” Tyber made a show of drawing in a deep breath of the chilly morning air. The shadow of the wild dragon passed over Trysten and Ander, who chatted about something in low tones. The wild dragon looked back at her, then banked in a sharp turn to approach from the other direction.

  Tyber let out his dramatic breath, releasing it in a whoosh through his parted lips. “Where’s the stench? Have you noticed that? This place doesn’t smell nearly as bad as the mother city. Everyone seems to be doing well. My father has work, and accordi
ng to him, there is so much work they don’t have enough laborers to fill the jobs. Good paying jobs. They’re pushing to get even more workers because they’re going to start building on the other side of the river once the spring flooding is over. Why wouldn’t you want to be stationed here?”

  “It’s not home, man,” Ren said, then pulled ahead, suddenly quickening his pace to cover the ground between himself and Trysten and Ander.

  Tyber shook his head as he looked up at the little wild dragon as it swept past once more, turning his attention from Trysten to Tyber for a short glance before looking ahead, to the skies and the mountains off in the west.

  Tyber hurried his pace as well.

  Once they reached the weyr, Trysten told them that they would follow her to the east, past the horizon. There, she and Ander would swap dragons, and Verana would put on a display to convince Rius and Maybelle that she was the alpha. At that point, Ander would be the dragoneer in the eyes of the dragons.

  Ren raised a hand, and the act of asking politely for Trysten’s attention was more surprising than anything he might actually say.

  Trysten nodded in his direction.

  “Is this bond reversible?” Ren asked. “Can you take it back?”

  Trysten glanced at Ander, then back to Ren. She shook her head.

  “The bond your dragons have to Merilyss is a surrogate bond. It’s temporary. Once it’s broken, it can’t be repaired. I’m afraid your dragon will be bonded to Verana permanently.”

  “So we’re going to stay in Aerona, then?” Ren pushed.

  Trysten’s brows furrowed some, and she looked as if she was trying to decide whether she was being tricked.

  “That is up to King Aymon,” Ander interjected. “As royal hordesmen, it is our duty and our honor to serve the King as he sees fit, where he sees fit.”

  Ren studied the straw-strewn floor of the weyr, and it surprised Tyber almost as much as Ren raising his hand.

  “There is no reason Verana has to stay in Aerona,” Trysten said. “Wherever Verana goes, Maybelle and Rius will wish to go.”

  Tyber pulled his shoulders back as he watched Ander. The man’s expression was solid, unreadable beneath his beard as he looked from Trysten to Ren. He looked for all the wilds as if he believed what he said about duty and honor, because nowhere in his expression did Tyber see evidence that he was the least bit concerned about having Listico taken from him.