The Last Dragon: Book Three

by LeRoy Clary

  Flier waved for us to continue our journey. He was two or three hundred paces in front of us when the dragon flew along the surface of the river, following the twists and turns as if it was a game. It turned to the left, the right, and back again, so low the wind from the tips of the wings caused ripples in the water.

  I couldn’t be certain, but it turned and looked at Kendra as if it was happy to see her again. Of course, that might be my imagination. Dragons can’t feel affection for humans, can they?

  It flew on as we paused as one to watch it, despite Flier yelling that we needed to move faster. We hurried to make up time.

  The footing along the river was solid, dry, and there was a path through the tall grass that told of many other feet passing that way, but because of wind blowing sand most afternoons, we didn’t know whose feet they were. We didn’t even know if they were human.

  The river took a wide bend to our right, and where that happened, the trees grew in a thick and tangled mass. Adding water to the desert sand made it bloom. A flock of birds flew as one from the trees, and I kept my eyes on that place. Had they been startled or were they searching for food together?

  We moved closer without any indication of a trap. However, I felt eyes watching us. Flier paused and held up his fist, the signal for us to stop. He watched the same place as me.

  After what seemed long enough to walk all the way to Vin, a single man emerged and walked slowly and carefully to Flier. No doubt others watched from concealment.

  The man wore a battered gray uniform, the pants, and tunic more or less the same color. Flier moved ahead slowly and looked like he called out something, but we couldn’t hear.

  “Be ready to run across the river. It’s shallow enough, and we can decide what to do from there,” I said. “It’s easier to defend if our opponents are slowed by being in the water.” While not much of a barrier, it might give us time to defend ourselves.

  Flier advanced on the man slowly as he talked, then bolted ahead, arms raised.

  “Run,” I ordered, stepping into the water and prepared to help the others.

  “No,” Anna called. “Look!”

  Flier had reached the man in the uniform, and they embraced, then danced as they refused to let go of one another and spun in joyous circles. I waded ashore and joined the girls as we cautiously advanced.

  Flier called to us as he kept an arm over the shoulder of the man, “We were messengers together. We called him Slacker because he always managed to get out of the hard details.”

  Both wore wide smiles. The man’s tattered and filthy uniform made him an officer, and his age prevented me from seeing him as a fleet messenger, but not many in their early thirties would. He stood taller than Flier and heavier. Big-boned, some would say. His feet and hands were large, as were his shoulders and long legs. Picturing him younger and thinner brought an image of a lanky runner with a long stride.

  I reached out to shake his hand as more men emerged from the trees. Their uniforms were in as bad shape as Slacker’s, with mismatched pants and tunics, a variety of hats, and unkempt appearances. That applied to all but their weapons. Swords, bows, and even spears were polished, sharpened, and oiled against rust.

  Five of them eventually stood awkwardly with us, and there were a few glimpses of at least two more held in reserve within the trees. While their clothing was a collection of rags, their weapons and tactics seemed professional.

  Slacker invited us to talk in the shade, and we readily accepted.

  Their camp was concealed and fortified, and immediately several items stood out. While it was a defensive camp, open to attack from the river, a small ridge created by the river flooding stood behind. A single opening had been cut through the sandstone to allow one person at a time to climb a ramp to the top. The narrow slot of stone could be blocked by the boulders on either side, balanced and ready to fall when smaller rocks were removed from the base.

  Above the ridge, which was higher than my head, spread a short wall, tall enough to kneel behind. A small force could hold that position from a hundred attackers—for a short time.

  Slacker noticed my interest. “After we slow them down here, we will head into the desert where we have hidden water supplies. A single day out there without enemies having water gives us all the advantage. A man cannot carry enough for a full day. Our plan is to lead them deep into the dry-lands where we will stop at several caches of water, and then we’ll attack them the second or third day if needed. The desert will probably do our work. We have to survive.”

  Flier said, “You’ve done it before?”

  “Three times, so far. Lost two men and a few were wounded once, but not bad when fighting a larger force.”

  “Who are you fighting?” Kendra asked, speaking for the first time.

  I noticed with her first words, none of Slacker’s men had said anything. They were not unfriendly, but neither were they happy to see us. Their eyes had the lack of focus that comes with boredom and hardship over a long time.

  Slacker said to Flier, “About the same time you disappeared all those years ago, the king also disappeared. I mean, he issued directives and did all the usual things, but nobody ever saw him. About a year later, he tired of ruling, so appointed a Council of Royals to act in his stead.”

  Kendra sighed, “And nobody ever saw him officiate or attend a ball. It was as if he didn’t exist.”

  “At first,” Slacker defended himself, “we all believed it seemed odd, but nothing for commoners to question. Especially, those of us in the army who were sworn to serve him. We still had our generals and orders to follow.”

  I also knew where the tale was going. The ruling body seized control of essential services and those who objected or refused had accidents and were replaced by people supportive of the Council. It was the same story as in other places.

  “Mages?” I found myself asking.

  Slacker seemed surprised by my blurted question. “Two, at first. Now they are gone.”

  I looked at Kendra for confirmation. She nodded, confirming there were presently none in Vin. Then her eyebrows narrowed slightly, and she held her index finger and middle finger pointing down at her foot. It was our signal that she wanted to tell me something in private.

  Because of my question, it was probably something to do with mages or their disappearance. However, we’d reached a sunken firepit, obviously to keep the flames from being seen at a distance. An iron grate sat on the rocks containing it, and a large fire-blackened pot hung from an iron tripod over the fire. Food cooked, and to my nose, it was the best aroma I’d ever smelled.

  “Hungry?” Slacker asked. “We don’t usually have much, but we just killed a desert goat, and there’s plenty of stew if not enough vegetables. I hope you like water-onions.”

  A small stock of clay bowls was passed out as Slacker sent men to watch posts surrounding the area. I had the impression all had lived in this place for a long time. We sat in small groups, but Flier sat with Slacker, and they talked between themselves. A few laughs, more than one disbelieving expression from Slacker was cast our way. Obviously, they were old and close friends. After the impromptu meal, Flier came to Kendra and me.

  He said, “These men are rebels. They no longer serve the king or the council. Members of the original army and recruits paid by the council fight against them.”

  Kendra said, “What is their goal?”

  “To sit the rightful king or his heir on the throne again.”

  I glanced at Kendra and said, “Have you figured out that Elizabeth is sailing directly into a trap?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Princess Elizabeth

  Soren and Timor respectfully entered my cabin and bowed more deeply than I’d seen for any princess, my brother the future king, or my father. Was it from respect for me or the position I held in Crestfallen? No, they had all bowed or curtsied to my father in the same way during official engagements—but he was the King of Dire. I pushed my thoughts inside and allowed
none of what I felt to show on my face or in my actions. Instead, in a soft voice, I cooed, “Have you come to share your revised treaty?”

  Timor said, “We have if this is a good time for you.”

  “Sit on the edge of my bed and tell me of the changes.”

  They were shocked and confused by my instructions. Not at sharing their changes, but of two men sitting on the bed of a princess again. It implied personal relations, and I liked the confusion and uncertainty it caused. Not that they were confused and shocked, but the intimacy of my bed was another weapon for my arsenal. Neither stood a chance of sharing it, but I was entering a mental battle with the fate of Dire in question. If I could make a pair of men quiver like warm honey in summer simply by invitation to sit on an empty bed, there might come a time when I could use it.

  Soren kept his eyes downcast as Timor lifted a piece of inexpensive brown paper and read nine additions to the treaty, all favoring Dire. He’d been prepared for my questions and anticipated I might ask only for the changes, not a full review of everything. Glancing at the paper, it was Timor’s hand that penned it. The younger man might find himself vaulting over Soren for promotion if he continued to perform as he had lately.

  “Timor,” I said, “those are all items I’d like to see on the final treaty, except numbers three and four. They are merely trade-bait, items for me to surrender while making sure I get my way on the others. However, I need several more of similar scope and perhaps two that are completely outlandish. In giving up those two, the ones you’ve outlined will seem far more reasonable. Eventually, I’ll give in to all of them, and the remainder will be what we want.”

  His head bobbed in agreement as I talked, and Soren’s complexion reddened. They’d obviously argued about what to include, and Timor had wanted to add others as I’d suggested. Soren had objected if I read their body language correctly. I wouldn’t mention it, but I’d remember it. There were times when Soren didn’t seem to be doing as I wished.

  Timor said, “Between the three of us, we should have those suggestions before dark if you wish to review them tonight. I heard we will dock in Vin just after dawn, tomorrow. Will you require anything else from us for this port of call?”

  “No, not at first, however my plan is to go ashore and meet with whatever officials are available. I would like to gently question them and see if there are concerns that might also come up in Dagger. Perhaps one might mention a shortage of grain, or that good wine is at a premium. If Dire can help resolve a problem in Kondor, we will—for a price.”

  Soren snorted in humor as if I’d said something funny, but his eyes were not laughing. He seemed to be performing for me as if he liked what was happening.

  I didn’t. He closed his mouth and looked away before my eyes met his. Again, Will had been right. People do not give respect. The recipient earns it. My hand moved in the direction of the latch for the door, and both men bolted as if chased by dark things that come in our dreams at night.

  Yes, I had noticed the conspicuous absence of Lady Grace, my personal scribe at the meeting. I also noticed neither man had mentioned her, and that made me wonder why she had not come to my cabin. I suspected Soren had been involved, but instead of waiting, I left my cabin and walked to the next door, which was the cabin used as an office.

  I opened it unannounced and found her head down, pen in hand. Timor was already doing the same. Soren was absent. This time, I sat uninvited after gently closing the door. Their surprise at my actions was much the same as a child caught stealing a fresh-baked cookie. They were hiding something.

  My smile was intended to calm both. That was before coming right to the point. “Where is Soren?”

  “Uh, he had to meet with someone in the passenger lounge,” Timor said after a glance at Lady Grace to make sure she agreed with him telling me.

  “I see. Has he spent a lot of time with this person?” That question nearly caused both to panic. It shouldn’t have. I suspected a woman.

  Lady Grace said, “I believe it is a new friend.”

  “Oh, that’s nice,” I smiled. “Are you two already working on what I asked for?”

  “We are,” Timor said.

  “Good. Is there any possibility I could get a crude outline from the pair of you, just the basics read this evening so that I will have it in the morning?” I’d already asked for it but wanted to reinforce my demand. I also wished to point out that two were doing the work of three.

  They agreed.

  I stood up and said, “You’re both doing a wonderful job for me, and I thank you for the hard work. Soren, too, of course. By the way, does his friend live in Dire?”

  “Kondor,” Lady Grace corrected.

  “I see. Well, I have a few things to do so I’ll let you get back to your work. Is there anything you need from me?” Thankfully, there was not.

  I nearly fled the room in search of Will. It was not hard to find him. I went on deck and called his name once. He appeared from behind the stub of the main mast as if by magic, and as if he just happened to be where he could watch over me, as always.

  I pointed to the rail. The pretense of not knowing each other was wearing thin, but only to those who were paying attention. We stood beside each other for a few moments. He allowed me to gather my thoughts. Unfounded accusations should be handled delicately.

  I said, “One of my scribes is not revising the treaty in the manner I asked for. He is meeting with a new friend in the passenger lounge instead, someone from Kondor.” I stressed the name as if wanting to clear a bad taste from my mouth.

  The corners of Will’s lips twitched. Not a full smile, but the beginnings of one. He said, “You impress me in ways never expected. How you ferreted out that he is not dealing with an old friend, but a new business acquaintance, I’d like to know. But, again, I’m impressed, and the situation is going to be dealt with tonight.”

  “You knew? Tonight?”

  “I didn’t feel it imperative to handle it sooner, and certainly not before speaking to you. We dock in the morning, and it needs to be over before then. Before his new friend can pass on the information he’s bought.”

  “But you already knew about it?” I demanded again, so fiercely my foot almost stamped on the deck of the ship. “You’ve investigated my scribe and the friend?”

  “Only for a few days. Since the mage’s storm broke.”

  “And?”

  He shrugged. “They spoke in whispers, but the air at sea sometimes carries voices to those nearby. Sometimes the walls on ships are thin enough to hear through.”

  That was all a lie. He’d managed to sneak within hearing range in some manner and listened to their conversation. “What was said?”

  “Soren told a lone ‘businessman’ from Kondor everything you discussed in the treaty. In detail. What you stressed, what you were willing to give up, and the rest. Then he accepted a purse filled to overflowing with coins. The businessman will relay that information to the Council of Nine as soon as the ship docks and your efforts to negotiate a fair treaty will fail—if they have their way. Which they will not.”

  I felt the heat rise my neck and reach my face. My flush must have been evident all the way from the bow of the Gallant. My fingers curled into fists. “A traitor? Soren? He sold information to harm Dire?”

  “Your father will be disappointed to hear of his untimely death at sea.”

  My reaction was to charge into the passenger’s lounge and confront Soren. If he’d done what Will said, I’d be willing to throw him over the railing of the ship and watch him swim. Will’s flat statement that he was going to kill Soren chilled the heat I’d felt a moments ago. My lips wanted to tell Will he couldn’t kill Soren. Not Soren. I’d seen him in the halls and workshops of Crestfallen since I was a child. He was a senior scribe and respected enough that my father personally selected him for this voyage. My mind juggled all the contrasting components as I considered the situation in shock. Then any feelings of fondness for the man moved on. />
  Soren’s actions endangered me, Damon, Kendra, my father, and every citizen of Dire. My anger at his betrayal grew. I turned to tell Will I agreed with his assessment to kill Soren but found he had already departed and wasn’t in sight. His mind was made up.

  I don’t know how long I’d been standing at the rail, but Will had moved like an apparition, like the Blue Lady. It seemed his feet barely touched the deck. He could disappear while I looked at him, but it was skill, not magic he used. The next time he was near me, I’d place a hand on his arm to find out if he was real and to hold him near until I was ready to release him. Being enclosed in my cabin, alone, didn’t appeal, so I remained at the rail and watched the endless roll of the sea.

  A young man I didn’t know, but who had caught my eye a few times, came up behind me and asked, “May I join you?”

  He was from Kondor, his features were much like Damon’s, and I missed my friend, so found myself saying, “Please.”

  He reached out to take my hand in formal greeting. “Frisian. An old name meaning ‘beautiful sunrise.’ I’ve never forgiven my mother for choosing it.”

  “I am . . . Elizabeth.”

  “Princess Elizabeth of Dire, so I’m told. I’ve never spoken to royalty.”

  “You seem to be doing well at it, today.”

  “I have heard you wish to know more about my homeland and am offering my help.”

  Was Frisian the businessman who paid my clerk to betray me? A knot formed in my stomach. “Your occupation?”

  “I’m a trader.”

  He said, trader, not a traitor, as I’d thought I heard at first. Still, a trader is a businessman. There were not that many passengers from Kondor who were businessmen on the ship. I glanced around and found Will innocently passing by. He shook his head before I could ask the question.

  I couldn’t help myself. “Do you know anyone on the Council of Nine?”