by Nathan Roden
“I am the sheriff of Evenshire.”
“I see. I mean no disrespect for your office or for your laws, but I must insist you untie the lady.”
“What is she to you?” the old woman snapped.
“What is your name, My Lady?”
The woman fumed, her fists clenched.
“Jacobs. Belinda Jacobs.”
“Ah, yes. The healer’s wife. I have heard of you and your husband. You have served the people well.”
“Then you must know that my husband is dead—thanks to this witch! I’ll ask you again—what is she to you?”
“She is my sister.”
Adam lost his grip on Magdalena’s hands. She fell to her knees, sobbing.
“What is this…trickery? More of the witch’s lies?” Belinda screamed.
Tanner dropped the harmless stick he held at Adam’s back. He ran to Magdalena and knelt beside her.
They hugged each other and wept—the brother and sister who had been separated as children over thirty years ago.
Nine
Adam looked at the two sobbing strangers. He looked at Belinda.
“I’m having a hard time seeing the threat, Mother.”
Belinda Jacobs held a dagger in front of her.
“Don’t lower your guard, son. I don’t know what kind of trickery this is, but this sorceress is not to be trusted.”
Tanner helped Magdalena to her feet.
Magdalena wiped her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry,” Belinda scoffed. “This is your brother? Where did he come from?”
Magdalena pointed to the south.
“We were born there, outside the village of—”
“More lies,” Belinda said.
“It is true,” Tanner said. “We were a family, once. Our mother died when we were very young. Our father’s crops failed and he could not feed us. Sherman and I were sold to traders from the north.”
“Sherman?” Magdalena said. She looked at Tanner with hope in her eyes.
Tanner shook his head.
“Sherman got sick. He didn’t make it.”
Magdalena sniffed. She nodded.
“I was bought by an officer in the King’s Guard—under the order of King Bailin. I was given charge over four other boys; to perform the lowly duties of the Guard and Army. We cleaned privies. We emptied chamber pots. We shoveled out stables. Nothing we did was ever good enough. We were fed once a day—barely enough to stay alive. When our work was considered unsatisfactory, I was beaten. They never laid a hand on any of the others. Only me.”
“But you escaped,” Magdalena said. “How?”
Tanner smiled.
“I had the same Gram as you. I looked for you, Maggie. No one would answer me.”
“I was sold, as well,” Magdalena said. “Papa tried to change his mind. The trader from the north killed him. He killed Gram, too.”
Belinda covered her mouth. Tears ran down her cheeks.
“Mother?” Adam whispered. “What’s wrong?”
Belinda put a hand to Adam’s face.
“I never told you, Adam. There was no need to trouble you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I was also born in the south, during troubled times. The north had cut off supplies, and mistrust was the order off the day. Young girls were seen as expendable. I was fortunate. I was sold to a healer from the north. His wife had lost her sight. I cared for her and cooked and cleaned for them. They sent their son across the sea when he was ten years old; to learn from the greatest men of medicine. When he returned, he was a highly cultured and brilliant young man. I could not take my eyes off of him. He professed his love for me, even against the wishes of his mother and father. They threatened to banish him from their home. That man was your father.”
Adam took his mother’s hand.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Belinda blinked and bit her lip.
“I was ashamed. Why would we tell you that your mother was little more than a house slave?”
Adam looked at Tanner and Magdalena.
“There is no shame in being who you are. If people are judged, it should be for their deeds and nothing else.”
“You are a wise man, Adam,” Tanner said. “I’ll wager you are a very good sheriff.”
Adam squinted.
“Your army—did they destroy this camp? Many were burned alive here.”
Magdalena showed the tooth she had found.
Belinda’s eyes grew wide.
“The boy-king? He did this?”
Magdalena shook her head.
“No. The Border Guard came south. They attacked us there.”
Belinda swallowed nervously.
“We are told that the dragons are gone; that no more than a few sickly ones cling to life deep in the south.”
“A family of dragons helped us defeat the Guard,” Magdalena said.
“Dragons helped you,” Belinda said. “Did you ask them to come here? To raze this camp to the ground? We already have a ruthless and bloodthirsty tyrant who rules the land. Do you intend to replace him with vengeful fire-breathing beasts?”
“It was not a mindless act, Lady Jacobs,” Tanner said. “The Border Guard and a band of hunters attacked a dragon’s mate and their babies. His mate would have died if not for a miracle.”
“What miracle?” Belinda asked.
“The dragon was healed by a ten-year-old boy—the oldest of three orphans, My Lady,” Magdalena said. “This boy has abilities like none I have ever seen.”
“A mere boy…” Belinda said. “Who else is with you? Besides Simon Morgenwraithe and his friends.”
“Nicholas Lamont,” Magdalena said.
Belinda stared at her.
“Oh, dear. We must go at once,” Belinda said.
“Why?”
“Queen Jaclyn has been arrested and charged with treason.”
Ten
“Oh, no!” Magdalena said. “We have to let Lord Lamont know—as quickly as possible.”
“Where are your horses?” Adam asked.
“We left them south of the canyon, by the river,” Magdalena lied. “I’ll lead you through the canyon on foot. There is but one safe passage. It is not a good place for your horses to be spooked.”
“What lies in this canyon?” Adam asked.
“A series of traps and snares. Ugly ones. In their haste to avoid the dragon, members of the Border Guard fell victim to their own defenses.”
They passed through the canyon accompanied by Belinda’s sobs. She tried to muffle them, but the sight of the boys caught in gruesome death poses was more than she could bear.
“This is the main road,” Magdalena said when they reached the river. “It will take you to Drakal.”
“We will wait for you,” Adam said. “Your horses are nearby, are they not?”
“Not far,” Magdalena said. “But we sent men to the village of Vallen. I am supposed to bring Lamont news of the recruiting efforts there. We will not be far behind you.”
Magdalena and Tanner hurried away upstream.
Adam watched them go.
“That woman carries many secrets. Do you trust her?”
“If she sides with those who would send Sterling and his giant demon back to hell, I will forgive her a great many secrets. And a great many lies.”
When they were out of sight of Lady Jacobs and her son, Tanner spoke.
“We could have doubled up with them, you know. They didn’t believe what you said about our horses.”
“I don’t care if I ever ride upon another horse,” Magdalena said.
“What about dragons?”
“I can do without those, as well.”
“So, do we stay behind them, or go ahead?”
“We should scout the road ahead of them,” Magdalena said. “If there are surprises along the road, we need to find them first.”
The wolves quickly overtook the horses. They gave the Jaco
bs a wide berth and then scouted the road ahead. At the intersection of the road into Vallen, Magdalena saw what she feared they might find; eight men armed with spears. Many of the survivors of the fires in Vallen had lost their homes. Magdalena hoped these men were only on the main road to ask for handouts, but she did not believe it. She and Tanner hid in the trees and waited for the Jacobs to arrive.
The men spread themselves along the road.
“Well, well, well!” one man said. “My Lord. My Lady. Where are we off to this fine day?”
“We heard there were many wounded in the village of Drakal,” Belinda said. “My son and I—”
“These are fine animals,” the man said, stroking the neck of Belinda’s horse. “Fat and healthy. Looks like they’ve been eating better than my friends and I have.”
“Did no one tell you how dangerous it is south of here?” another man asked. “The Border Guard marched through here days ago.”
The man smiled a mostly toothless grin.
“Ain’t none of ‘em come back.”
“I am Adam Jacobs, sheriff of Evenshire,” Adam said. “We come in peace, on the king’s business.”
“Oh, we got us a sheriff, boys! On the king’s business!”
The man spat on the ground.
“The only problem is—we answer to no king. And we don’t exactly have any love left for folks from the north—after some of your people burned our village to the ground!”
The men stepped forward with their spears aloft.
“We could run you through without a thought,” one said. “But we’re more civilized than that. Your horses will feed us for a week. So let’s be climbing on down.”
“Stay where you are, Lady Jacobs.”
The men turned at the sound of the voice. Magdalena and Tanner stood at the edge of the road.
“Where did you come from?” a man asked.
“That woman came straight out of my dreams, I can tell you that much,” another said.
Yet another man shook his spear at them.
“She…she was one of them! She was with the soldiers from the north!”
“The other one—I know his face! I’ve seen him before!”
“These are friends of ours,” Magdalena said. “As they’ve told you, they have business to the south. Kindly step aside and allow them to pass.”
“We can’t do that, My Lady. They’re sitting on our dinner.”
The other men laughed.
Magdalena raised her hand. A spear burst into flames. The man holding the spear screamed and threw it down.
“A bloody witch!”
“We don’t have time for games,” Magdalena said. “Move aside.”
The men stepped backed. They lowered their spears. No one noticed that one man had pulled a dagger until just before he threw it. The dagger flew at Magdalena’s face. A hand flashed in front of her.
Tanner caught the blade inches from his sister’s nose. He turned and walked toward the man who threw it. The man backed away. He fell. Tanner grabbed the man by his hair and pulled him to his feet.
Tanner’s back was to the others. He stared into the man’s face. Tanner’s nose began to stretch. He opened his mouth, growling behind the bared fangs of the wolf.
The man trembled. His bladder let go.
“Bloody hell! Bloody hell!”
Tanner threw the man to the ground. The man scrambled to his feet and disappeared over the closest hill.
Tanner turned. He shrugged.
“Let’s be off then.”
“You’ve hidden your horses again, I presume,” Adam said.
“Of course,” Magdalena said. “They make the natives hungry.”
“Good idea.”
Eleven
Boone pushed himself to his feet. He brushed the wet leaves from his backside and pressed his hands against the small of his back. He walked a few steps toward the tree-line and peeked past the leaves.
“Sir Edmund has been in there a while.”
“If he goes down, it will not be quietly,” Helena said.
“We’ll give him a few more—”
“Well, what have we here?” a deep voice snarled.
Boone and Helena turned around.
They were faced with six burly young men, each brandishing a short sword.
The biggest man licked his lips and looked Helena over, head to toe.
“The answer to my prayers, I would say.”
Helena’s eyes flicked toward the fallen tree where she and Boone had been sitting. Their bows and quivers lay behind it, out of sight.
Damn!
A man held the tip of his sword at Boone’s nose.
“I didn’t know this was your type, Brock. You can have him. I’ll have this pretty little thing.”
He reached for Helena’s arm. She jerked it away.
“Very funny,” Brock said. “You can have her when I’m done. Use her boyfriend for sword practice while you’re waiting.”
Brock reached for Helena’s left arm. She slipped away and landed a punch to Brock’s jaw.
The other men were still. Brock spit blood to the ground.
His friends could not hold their laughter. Brock roared and ran at Helena. Boone dove and threw his shoulder into Brock’s side. They rolled across the ground. Boone jumped to his feet before Brock could. Boone landed a kick to Brock’s ribs.
And then he was grabbed from the back. Two men held his arms. Three others held swords. Brock pushed to his feet.
“I’m going to leave you alive,” Brock growled. “Just alive enough to watch. And then we’ll leave what’s left of you for the wolves.”
“I believe that’s enough training for one day. Save some for the battlefield.”
The men spun around.
Sir Edmund Braun leaned against his sword.
“Go about your business, crazy old man,” Brock said. “I’ll take no pleasure in gutting you.”
Sir Edmund nodded.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“Crazy old bastard forgot how to count,” another man said, raising his sword.
“I’d say he counts well enough.”
Sir Gregory Beasley and his four friends stepped beside Sir Edmund.
“We’ve no quarrel with you, old man,” a man said. “These two were hiding in the trees—spies, I suspect.”
“We don’t have to explain ourselves to these dried-up old prunes!” Brock said. “I told you to move along!”
Sir Gregory pointed at one of the men.
“You. You’re Varney’s boy.”
The man flinched. He looked to Brock. Brock spat on the ground.
“You’ve got three seconds to leave. Or you’re going to die.”
The old knights heaved a collective sigh at the impending needless loss of life; the same as they had done many times, many years ago. They raised their swords.
“This is the stupidest fight I’ve ever heard of.”
Brock and his friends were too stubborn to turn around again—until the blast of fire passed over their heads.
“By the gods!” The men spoke when they were able.
Brock was crazed with anger. He roared and charged at the dragon. Simon opened his wings, knocking the man to the ground. Simon stepped forward and pinned Brock to the ground with his leg.
“No! Please!” Brock whimpered.
Simon spun his head and growled at the others.
“Throw down your weapons.”
They did not hesitate.
Sir Gregory stared at the dragon. He tugged at Edmund’s sleeve.
“Uh, Edmund. When were you gonna tell us about this other friend of yours?”
“I planned to let you warm up to the idea,” Edmund said.
“I was warm there for a bit. Getting a little cool, now.”
Sir Edmund stepped forward.
“Boys, I’m going to present you with a onetime opportunity. The present king of this realm is not yet of age. The kingdom is under the rule of St
erling Morgenwraithe, the king’s uncle—a sick and twisted tyrant. We are assembling an army to stand against him and return the throne to the rightful king.”
“Wh-who is the rightful king?” a man asked.
Edmund pointed.
“Why, he’s right there in front of you.”
“The dr—the dragon king? The stories are true?”
“These are not soldiers!” Helena snapped. “These are hoodlums! Criminals! They meant to rape me! We cannot trust them, Sir Edmund!”
Two of the men stared at Edmund. They fell to their knees.
“Sir Edmund? Sir Edmund Braun?”
“Helena’s right,” Simon said. “We can ill afford to take on those we cannot trust. We should not take them. And we cannot let them go.”
“We won’t tell a soul!” a man cried. “I swear on my mother!”
Helena stepped to the man’s side.
“Maybe they’ve had a change of heart, King Simon. They certainly know how to beg when faced with certain death. Much more than could be said for the Captain of the Border Guard.”
Helena leaned close to the man’s ear.
“No, the Captain would simply not admit defeat. He was rude and obnoxious right to the end. The man just would not shut up. So, the king bit off his head.”
Helena held her hands eighteen inches apart.
“He only had to open his mouth this much.”
The man lurched forward and vomited.
“King Simon,” Edmund said. “If you would kindly allow that man to join his friends, I will explain to them the terms of our arrangement.”
Simon stared down at Brock. He did not move.
Boone whispered to Helena.
“I’m beginning to worry about Simon. He’s…he’s not the same, somehow.”
Smoke roiled from the sides of Simon’s mouth. The speed of his breathing increased.
“You were going to kill one of my good friends. And rape the other. And yet you expect my mercy.”
