“I’d be happy to write the letter for you in exchange for a free breakfast,” Yaz said.
“You can write?” John sounded dubious and Yaz didn’t blame him. Few people could read or write more than a few words.
“Are you familiar with Dragonspire Village?” Yaz asked.
“Sure, the merchants tell stories about it. Why?”
“That’s where we’re from,” Yaz said. “My mother’s a sage of the tower and she taught me to read and write. If you have paper, I have pen and ink.”
“Um, excuse me.”
John rounded on the assistant. “What!?”
“You really shouldn’t use someone from outside the guild.”
“If the guildsman kept his appointments I wouldn’t have to, would I? If your master has any complaints, you tell him what I said.”
The girl hurried out as fast as she could, drawing a round of laughter from the patrons watching the show. Yaz ignored them, dug his writing kit out of his saddlebag, and set it on the bar. He opened it, revealing the crow quill and sealed bottle of ink.
“I’ll need a sample,” John said. “I have a note that I memorized. I’ll read it to you and if they match, I’ll dictate the letter. Don’t worry, it’s short.”
“It’s your paper,” Yaz said.
John reached under the bar and came up with a blank sheet of cream paper and a torn scrap of the same material. He pushed the scrap to Yaz and pulled a many-times-folded rectangle of paper out of his pocket.
“Ready?”
Yaz nodded while Brigid watched with wide eyes. He never would understand why she found watching other people writing so interesting.
John read three lines which Yaz wrote out. When he finished, Yaz spun the paper around so John could check it. After a full minute of looking from one to the other John nodded. “Perfect match. I’m satisfied. Will you really write my whole letter in exchange for breakfast?”
“For both of us, whatever we want.”
“Agreed.” John slid the smooth, full sheet over to Yaz and they got down to business.
The letter ended up being a completely mundane order for wine and ale with a list of varieties and promise of payment on arrival. When he finished Yaz turned the letter back to John and offered him the quill. At the bottom John carefully wrote his initials.
As John was getting ready to hand the pen back, the inn door burst open and a tall, thin man with wild hair and narrow gray eyes stormed in. It looked like he’d tucked his nightshirt into his trousers and rushed out of his house still wearing his slippers.
John’s lip curled in distaste. “You’re too late, scribbler. Unless you want breakfast get on back home.”
“How dare you use someone outside the guild? You know we won’t stand for it.”
“I’ll tell you what I told your apprentice, if you’d kept your appointment, I wouldn’t have had to use someone else. And that’s exactly what I’ll tell your superiors if there’s an investigation. I doubt they’ll think much of your effect on their professional reputation.”
The scrivener’s face turned red and he rounded on Yaz. “And you. What makes you think you can just work wherever you like without guild membership? There are penalties for that kind of thing, serious ones.”
“As I’m sure you’re well aware,” Yaz said, trying to keep his voice calm. “Guild rules state that as long as an individual isn’t charging for his services or setting up a place of business, he or she is free to use their skills however they see fit. I’ve broken no guild laws by helping John for free. If the guild wishes to question me in this matter, there are plenty of witnesses that can swear no coin changed hands.”
Yaz could almost hear the scrivener’s teeth grinding. The man was in the wrong and he knew it, but his arrogance wouldn’t allow him to admit the truth.
Hoping to avoid trouble Yaz added, “My companion and I are leaving Sharpsburg as soon as we’ve broken our fast. You’ll have no competition from me.”
The scrivener turned on his heel and stalked out without another word.
“He wasn’t very pleasant,” Brigid said.
“Our dear scribbler thinks he’s the gods’ own gift to us poor ignorant mortals.” John chuckled. “No doubt running into someone else that can read and write, maybe better than him, soured his mood. Now let’s get you two something to eat.”
Yaz liked that plan. The sooner they left Sharpsburg the better. The scrivener didn’t strike him as the sort to let an insult pass and Yaz didn’t want to be here when he decided to return for payback.
Chapter 13
It was a dark day with thunder rumbling in the distance. No rain had fallen yet, but Moz figured it was only a matter of time. The air held a faint ozone smell that said the storm would soon be on them. Their current course had them riding along a narrow wagon road that cut through the heart of an old forest. There were no settlements beyond the occasional logging camp for a hundred-plus miles in every direction. Bleak, but Moz figured avoiding people was the best way to keep the girl safe.
Speaking of his charge, Ariel kept her gaze on the sky. Lightning occasionally flashed through the clouds and he assumed that was what held her fascinated. If the rains did come soon, there wasn’t much for cover except for the maple trees lining the road and Moz wasn’t sheltering there in a thunderstorm.
He sighed and looked down at the top of Ariel’s head as she bobbed along in front of him. They’d been traveling together for ten days and he’d given up asking her questions. When he tried, at most he got a sentence or two and more often nothing beyond a hiss from the little dragons that never wandered more than a few yards away from her. She didn’t seem upset exactly, just unwilling to talk.
The kid was an enigma. Hopefully Callie would have better luck when he got her to the bard’s college tomorrow. Moz hadn’t seen Callie in years, not since they fought together during the early years of the war. She was a kind, gentle woman who had no business doing what they’d had to do. Somehow she’d come out of the war with her smile intact, even if it was now tinged with sadness.
The horse hesitated a fraction and Moz went instantly on alert. He cocked his head and listened. Nothing but thunder and wind. He doubted the storm was suddenly bothering the roan though.
One of the little dragons buzzed away then quickly returned. Ariel looked up at him. “Bad men and the crow.”
Moz’s stomach clenched. Rondo must have figured out where they were going and set a trap. “Where?”
Ariel pointed at the left side of the road about a hundred yards ahead of them and at the right another hundred yards beyond the first spot. A simple setup, but deadly if they rode into it.
“Hang on,” Moz said.
He spotted a gap in the trees and thumped the roan hard. The horse took off like an arrow, burst through the branches and darted down a narrow deer path.
Moz had no idea where it went beyond away from the ambush. Hopefully he could circle around and get back to the road.
He kept low on the horse’s back, doing his best to shield Ariel from the occasional sharp branch. They were lucky not to run into much undergrowth. The loggers hadn’t gotten to this part of the forest yet and opened it up.
Moz risked a look back, but no one was following them. Good, but he held no illusions that they were safe. He eased back on the reins, slowing the horse’s breathless charge. The college lay thirty miles further east and he didn’t want to blow out their only mount. Plenty of time remained between here and there to run into trouble. If they had to escape again he wanted the horse to have something left in reserve.
The big question for now was whether to angle back to the road or keep to the forest. The ranger in him wanted to stick with the forest, but if they got into trouble running was a lot harder. Plus they’d make better time on the road.
“Can your little friends scout for us?” Moz asked.
She looked up at him with her strange eyes. “You want them to look for the bad men?”
Moz n
odded. “I’d like to avoid them if possible.”
“I’ll ask.” She turned away and hummed something. Immediately one of the dragons zipped away. “She’s going to look.”
“Thank you.” Moz’d keep to the forest until he knew where Rondo and his men were. If they were keeping to the road, he’d stick to the forest. A few hours more of travel time was a small price to pay to avoid a fight.
About five minutes later the dragon returned and hovered right in front of Ariel’s face. It hung there for a full minute before leaving again.
“The bad men gathered in the road to talk. The crow is yelling at everyone. He’s gone back to watch and see what happens next.”
Probably trying to figure out how Moz spotted the ambush. Rondo couldn’t have forgotten about Ariel’s dragons. Maybe he just assumed they weren’t smart enough for such a complex task. It surprised Moz as well, not that he planned to complain about such a useful advantage.
He turned the horse back towards the road. If they were plotting, the best move he could make was to put as much distance between them as possible. If he got to the college before they caught up that was it. No way could a small mercenary company take on a castle full of bards. They wouldn’t last ten seconds.
It had been good while it lasted. That’s what Moz thought as he bent low over the horse’s neck, not to protect Ariel from branches, but to shield her from the arrows that sliced the air all around them. The enemy mercenaries were getting closer all the time. He’d considered a number of possible ways the mercenaries might catch them, but having the group simply ride up behind them didn’t occur to him.
Moz risked a look back. There were a dozen of them mounted on fine black stallions, far better horses than the one he’d bought back in Gator Alley. Fine enough to close the gap long before they reached the college. Clenching his jaw, Moz silently cursed the gods. They were only an hour away! Just a little luck would have seen Ariel safe behind high walls and surrounded by powerful guardians.
But luck had never been a close ally of Moz’s, unless you counted bad luck.
They couldn’t even duck back into the forest. Thick brambles protected one side and a sheer drop to a riverbed made the other impassible.
The horse’s flanks heaved and it slowed despite Moz’s encouragement. Their time was just about up. Maybe he could take a few of the enemy with him, but escape looked impossible.
Their mount staggered.
Moz grabbed Ariel and leapt free of the collapsing beast.
They skidded to a stop and Moz sprang to his feet and moved to stand in front of Ariel. They’d take the girl over his dead body or not at all.
The horsemen made a semicircle around Moz and leveled their bows.
“No!” Ariel screamed.
One of the men smiled and drew his string back.
A massive gust of wind blew half the riders out of their saddles. The rest fought to keep their mounts from throwing them.
An instant later a shadow passed over the group. Giant wings beat and a dragon settled to the ground between Ariel and Moz and the mercenaries. The dragon was bigger than Moz’s house. Dull yellow scales covered it from nose to tail. Spikes stuck out from its back and its tail ended in bone blades a foot long.
Moz looked down at the girl. Rage twisted her face and her golden eyes blazed with an inner light. The dragon loosed a roar that shook the air.
It snapped a mercenary out of his saddle and bit him in half.
Talons ending in claws that would have made fine short swords rent another pair of men to pieces. Arrows clattered off the dragon’s scales to no effect. If the mercenaries wanted to hurt that thing, they’d need siege equipment not horse bows.
One of the mercenaries on the ground looked their way and aimed his bow.
Moz shifted just in time to intercept the arrow meant for Ariel. It burned in his shoulder, but he’d taken worse wounds.
The dragon’s rear foot came down on the man’s head before he could fire a second shot. A swipe of its tail sent more chunks of mingled horse and human flesh flying.
That was enough for the survivors. The four still on their bucking mounts turned them up the road and galloped away as fast as they could.
The dragon drew a deep breath and thrust its head toward the fleeing mercenaries. Blinding white light shot out its open mouth and vaporized the final four horsemen.
Moz blew out a breath. They’d survived. Maybe Lady Luck didn’t hate him as much as he thought.
The dragon turned and focused its acid-yellow eyes on Moz.
So much for that. He’d survived mercenaries only to be killed by his rescuer. A perfect end for him.
Ariel moved to stand in front of him and raised her arms. “No!”
The dragon blinked and some of the venom drained from its gaze. It lowered its giant head beside the little girl and she rubbed her on the snout.
“Thank you,” she said. “Good dragon.”
A deep vibration filled the air. Was that thing purring? She’d made a pet out of it, just like the little ones. Only this one couldn’t travel with them. If the two of them showed up with a forty-foot dragon following along like a puppy, the bards would never open their gates.
Girl and dragon seemed to realize it too. After a final pat the dragon beat its wings and took to the air.
Ariel watched it until it was out of sight and promptly fainted. A nap struck Moz as a fine idea. Instead he forced himself to his feet, picked her up with his good arm, and struck out down the road. An hour on horseback was going to be at least three walking.
He looked behind him again. During the battle he’d seen no sign of Rondo. The architect of their problems hadn’t found the guts to participate in the fight. Not that he would have been much use, but Moz would have enjoyed seeing him fried by the dragon.
Three hours hiking felt like a lifetime with an unconscious girl in one arm and an arrow grinding in the other. Ahead of him the Bardic College loomed in the afternoon sun. Nothing about it appeared welcoming. The walls were dark gray with high battlements and towers at every corner. A single gate allowed access to the inner yard and keep.
Moz staggered up to the portcullis. A pair of young men in mail suits armed with spears and swords stepped out from behind the wall.
“No beggars,” the left-side guard said. “Off with you.”
If looks could kill, that boy would have been dead in his tracks. “Fetch Callie, I’m in no mood for conversation with the likes of you. If she asks, tell her Moz needs a patch job.”
When neither of the guards moved he bellowed, “Now!”
The right-hand guard took off like someone had kicked him. Hopefully Callie wasn’t far off, because the world was spinning and he was going to pass out soon.
For once things went Moz’s way. A few minutes after he left, the guard returned with a tall woman dressed in leathers and carrying a short sword belted at her waist. Wavy red hair streaked with gray hung down to her shoulder.
The moment Callie spotted him her eyes crinkled in delight. That gave way a moment later to wide-eyed concern. “Open the gate, you fools! Can’t you see he’s injured?”
“Yes, ma’am!” the guards said in unison. Seconds later the portcullis started up.
“What happened, Moz?” she asked.
“Long story. I’d just as soon tell it from a chair if you’ve got one.”
The portcullis finished clanking up. “Give her to me before you drop her.”
Moz handed Ariel over and wobbled through. He followed Callie through the yard, into the keep, and down halls. They passed people, but Moz didn’t register them as anything more than moving blobs. All his focus went to putting one foot in front of the other.
At last they came to a room filled with narrow beds covered in white sheets. Moz couldn’t remember a more beautiful sight. He collapsed into the first one he came to. A soft voice filled the air and took the pain away.
It was the last thing he remembered before falling asleep.
>
When Moz came to he felt more rested than he had in ages. The pain in his shoulder was gone as well. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and it all came back to him, the desperate flight, the mercenaries, the dragon, and the final death march to the college.
He became aware of a presence beside his bed and turned his head to find Callie sitting on a stool beside him. She smiled. “Feel better?”
“Mmm. You haven’t lost your touch. How long was I out?”
“A few hours. I used my power to enhance your sleep. From the looks of you another twelve hours wouldn’t hurt anything.”
“Maybe after we talk. How’s the kid?”
“Unharmed and sleeping like the dead. What’s going on, Moz? I never thought I’d see you in ranger armor again.”
“That makes two of us. The little one’s a bard.” Moz looked around, but it was just the two of them. “Is it safe to talk here?”
“As safe as it is anywhere. I trust my people, Moz. Besides, other than the night watch, everyone else is asleep.”
“Okay. She can control dragons and someone wants her power real bad.”
“Dragons.” Callie breathed a long sigh. “You know what this means?”
“Not all of it, but I know everyone I’ve ever talked to about bards has been looking for one with her ability. Why is that?”
“It’s the same power the Dragon Emperor had. The ability to control dragons allowed him and his heirs to subjugate the entire continent. No one has had this gift since the last emperor died. She could be the ultimate weapon in the wrong hands.”
“That last part I can confirm.” Moz told her about the battle with the mercenaries. “She didn’t really give it orders other than not to eat me. It was more like their minds were connected. That make any sense?”
“Yes, some bards use their voices to initiate their power, but once it’s begun, they can control whatever they use by thought alone. It’s rare though.”
“I suspect everything about Ariel is rare. She acts way younger than her physical age. I didn’t know where else to bring her.”
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