The Chronicles of Amberdrake

by Loren K. Jones

  “You told me when you left that if you didn’t come back the Falcon was mine, but I didn’t believe it. This is official. I don’t know what to say.” Her eyes were very big and round, and there seemed to be a tear or two trying to escape.

  “Just say you love me.” That always worked. Before I knew what was happening, I was flat on my back with her on top of me, kissing me wildly.

  Word spread to the other servants quickly, and the night became an occasion for a party. High Laird Shanbelson dropped in and congratulated Brandy on her good fortune and assured me that there would not be any trouble concerning her inheritance. That’s the nice thing about important relatives.

  * * *

  I used the documents in my possession to reinstate myself in the wool trade, as well as other businesses that I had once taken an interest in. The lairds, especially the High Laird, welcomed me, but with reservations. Not being able, or willing, to account for the last ten years had some of them nervous.

  Winter was fast approaching, and I felt the need to go again. Amber did not understand, and I was afraid that Brandis would not understand either.

  “What? Leave again? Drake, I don’t understand. You know how you are in the winter. What will you do when your knees start swelling?” Brandy was hard to face when she got mad.

  “Now, Brandy, I told you before that I have other business interests in Westport. I have to go check on Chan and my other investments.” I kissed her, but she was not in the mood to be nice.

  I rode out of Chanders again, though this was my last time. When next I set foot in this city, Brandis will be long gone. I wonder what she will make of my disappearance?

  I made the trip to Greater Westport with no problem, and dropped in on Chanbern. “Well, Chan, how was the summer?”

  Chan was happy to see me, and made sure that I was well informed as to our business. I made my final good-byes, though he did not recognize them as such, and headed into Lesser Westport. I do, in fact, have a number of small investments there. Once in place, I initiated the last step of my revenge. Danlin was still looking for Drake Standralson, and she was about to find him. I created a dagger that bore her family crest. Then I located several degenerates who deserved a death sentence for several reasons and built a fine story in their minds.

  * * *

  Lady Danlin stood in front of Prince Tambert, shaking from the cold and fear. “Don’t lie to me, slut. They were found with your dagger, still freshly stained with his blood.”

  “But, my Laird Prince, I did no such thing. Why would I hire such as these to kill him when you had already sentenced him to death?” Danlin scrubbed her hands together nervously.

  “I don’t know, but I intend to find out. Bring them in.” Prince Tambert watched as two men in threadbare clothes were brought before him in chains. “What have you to say for yourselves?”

  “Laird Prince, we be but common men, with common failings. When the lady did come to us with the gold, we was willing to do as she asked. And the other payment, well that made it sweeter. She be a fine lady, and I has never had such a fine piece, begging your pardon.”

  Danlin screamed, “What!? How dare you..?” Danlin was beside herself with rage. “How dare you common slugs say such things about me? That I would pay to have Drake killed, that is well known, but to imply that I gave you sexual favors as well is just too much to be believed. Laird Prince, you can’t believe such lies?”

  “In truth, I do have misgivings as to that part of the story. Have you any proof?” Prince Tambert was feigning boredom, but his twitching fingers revealed that he was actually furious.

  “Well, Laird Prince, she do be a fine one, but when she be excited, she do speak like a wharf wench. Nasty like.” The first said. Before Danlin could say more, the other began.

  “And she has a mark, a birth mark like, on her right butt cheek. It do look like a bird, almost.”

  Prince Tambert had heard enough. Standing quickly, he drew a sword and cut both of their throats with a single swing. Danlin screamed, not from the sight of blood, but from the look in Prince Tambert’s eyes.

  “No, please! They were lying! Someone told them those things! Please, I didn’t betray you!” She was crying and begging on her knees when he reached her. He began to swing the sword again, then stopped himself. He smiled as a better idea came to his mind.

  Turning to his Master of Shipping, he asked a simple question. “Master Wenterscroft, doesn’t the Flying Goose need a new ship’s whore?”

  Danlin realized his intention and began screaming, protesting her innocence, but it did her no good. By the end of the day, she was installed in the fo’c’sal of the Flying Goose, chained to the bed.

  * * *

  So Drake Standralson was dead once again. In a letter I left with Silat Domberson I explained my dual identity to Chanbern. It is addressed so that he will be notified in the event of the death of Standral Emverson, or Drake Standralson. A copy was to be sent to Chanders, to Brandis. Together, Brandis and Chanbern were my family, and I wanted them to know one another.

  I sailed the night sky over Greater Westport on dragon wings one last time. In a few years I mean to return, to tell Chanbern the final story, but that is in the future. For now, the east beckons.

  * * *

  “A ships’ whore?” Saunder asked in a stunned tone. “He sentenced a noblewoman to be raped by the entire ship’s company?”

  Drake had to good grace to look uncomfortable. “It was a fairly common punishment for traitors back then. Women, at least. And Tambert was a miserable excuse for a prince to begin with.” He shook his head. “Not many women lasted more than a year. I don’t know what happened to Danny. Honestly, I didn’t care. I was hoping he’d cut her throat and throw her body into the harbor like she tried to have done to me.”

  Rochelle looked slightly sick. “I think I’d prefer dragon-fire.”

  Mellody nodded. “At least it would be quick.”

  “That was the point, Mel,” Drake said softly as he held her hand. “A man would have been tortured to death over a long period. If he was too badly hurt, a Healermage would have revived him so it could continue.”

  “How horrible,” Rochelle murmured.

  Now Mellody shifted position and stared at Drake. “About this Brandis—”

  Rochelle giggled. “Melly, I’ve never heard you sound jealous before.”

  Mellody looked at her oldest friend and said, “Well, I was never married before.”

  Drake smiled softly and reached over to take her hand. “She has been dead for over four hundred years, Mel. There is nothing for you to worry about.”

  Mellody looked startled. “You told that story like it was just last year.”

  Now Drake looked at the floor. “You have to understand that with a dragon’s lifespan, it seems like it was.”

  Adventure 11

  The Dragon’s Rest Inn

  AMBERDRAKE SIGHED AS HE SAILED OVER the mountains. These were the mountains where he had first seen Amber and Lissette. The years had made changes here, as everywhere, and he had a hard time spotting the place where he had first seen the rape of a young girl, and set into motion the life he had lived. The cart track that had led past the mountain had been replaced by a wide, well maintained road. The cave itself was still there, and untenanted, the mountains resisting the encroachment of man. Landing, he looked about and remembered. There was where the bandits died. Here was where Lissette had lain. And here, here was where Amber first challenged me. He could still hear the echoes of her voice as she told him to “get it over with.” So very long ago, yet only a blink in time for a dragon.

  Sighing, he curled up on the ledge and looked out over the forest. The existence of the clan of Amberdrake’s Children had come as a surprise. To think that Amber’s descendants have come so far, and it all started here. In this cave. On this ledge. The moon found him asleep, dreaming dragon dreams of another time.

  The creaking of harness and the clopping of steel shod
hooves on the road woke him in the early dawn. A carter was making his way over the road, and his cheerful voice echoed as he spoke to his horse.

  “Well, Abigail, here we go again. Damn, I wish there were an inn in this pass. I know, I say the same thing every trip, but I wish it nonetheless. And I know that you wish it too. Now, don’t try to deny it. You would love a nice night in a stall. I know you, girl. You don’t like standing in the dark, listening to the wolves any more than I do.” The man’s voice faded as he moved on, but the echo of his words rang through Amberdrake’s head.

  An inn in the pass? Launching himself into the sky, he followed the road. The carter and Abigail saw his shadow, and paused to watch him. The man in awe, the horse in fear. Dragons are, after all, predators. The pass was a long one, easily a two-day trip for the average wagon. There were several springs that fed tricking streams, and they had been channeled to bring water to the road. Near the mid-point was a plateau, and there was evidence that this was the favored stopping point for the trip. A wide area had been cleared, and there was a large pile of sticks and brush piled up as firewood. Landing, he surveyed the area and nodded to himself. This will do nicely. But there were problems to handle first. These were claimed lands, and as such, he had to find out who to bribe to legally build his inn. After all, he would one day leave it to a member of Amber’s family. Transforming into his human form, he dressed himself as a moderately prosperous man and waited.

  The carter saw a lone man sitting in the camping area by a fire. He was cautious, but not overly so. The dukes had joined forces to eradicate the bandits that had once inhabited the mountains and preyed on the traders.

  “Hello there, stranger. Can a lonely man share your fire?”

  Drake looked up and grinned. “One lonely man to another, be welcome.”

  The carter maneuvered Abigail so that she stopped the wagon beside the fire. Drake stood and smiled. “I am Drake Emverson,” he said, bowing.

  “Cray Farabee, and this is Abigail. What brings you into the mountains alone, if you don’t mind my asking?” Cray was looking about, trying to determine if Drake was truly alone.

  “Passing through. My horse ran off while I was relieving myself, and I’ve been looking for her for half the day. Her tracks left the road a way back, and I was hoping to find her here, at the spring.” He gestured back over his shoulder to where a spring bubbled up inside of a man-made pond.

  “There are a lot of springs in these mountains, Goodman Drake. A lot of springs and forage, if your horse ain’t picky. I also saw a dragon sailing over this morning. I hate to say it, but she may very well be a meal by now. Either way, you aren’t likely to see her again. I can take you down to Kelsey in the morning, if that’s the direction you’re traveling.” Cray offered, and Drake nodded.

  “Thank you. I’m a stranger in these parts,” Drake answered honestly enough. “What kingdom am I in?”

  “Highsterad, but it ain’t a kingdom. Duchy. Kelsey is in Genleaf. It’s a duchy too.” Cray supplied, nodding to himself.

  “A duchy of what kingdom?” Drake asked. He was familiar with half a dozen arrangements for governments, but duchies were invariably part of larger kingdoms.

  “No kingdom, not anymore. Used to be part of Forinstan, back before the revolution. Old Blackmoore was the last king the dukes wanted, so they kept the power for themselves. Been a good thing, for the most part.”

  The mention of Blackmoore shocked Drake. Did that kingdom stretched this far south? Did all of that happen in Forinstan? Nodding his understanding, he looked about. “Aren’t there any inns or roadhouses along this pass? It seems to be a long haul over these mountains.”

  Cray shook his head. “No, none. Trouble with here is that it’s so isolated, and the pass snows solid in the winter. The nearest sawmill is also a five-day haul. Take a rich man to build here, and rich men want rich pickins. A roadside inn or roadhouse, as you called it, would have to be built by an established house as well. Both dukes demand that no one but reputable Houses operate in their territories.”

  Morning saw Drake sharing a ride with Cray and Abigail. Cray’s treatment of the animal was amusing to Drake. Cray saw his reaction and smiled. “I spend most of my time alone with her. Seems a shame to ignore her. And she has a great deal more sense than a number of people I know.”

  Kelsey turned out to be a moderately prosperous town, and Drake thanked Cray for the ride before he disappeared into the traders’ section of town. Drake headed toward the more affluent section, scanning the surroundings for thieves. He was not about to become the Daemon in broad daylight, so he contented himself with magicking the coins out of the thieves’ pouches. By the time he reached an inn with the familiar golden dragon in the corner of the frame he was carrying an impressive hoard of coins, though there was little gold or silver among them.

  The Green Valley was a small inn when compared to the Silver Unicorn, but neat and tidy. “Yes, Lord, how may I serve you?” the innkeeper, a tall, thin man, asked as soon as the door had closed.

  Smiling, Drake used the recognition signal that Chanbern had taught him, and the innkeeper relaxed. “I need a room and board for a night or three, Cousin. And possibly an introduction to the lord here.”

  “Welcome, Cousin. I am Nicholas Doubek. I don’t know you, do I? You don’t look familiar.” Nicholas asked, looking closely at Drake in the poor light.

  “No, you don’t. I am from Greater Westport, in the Darendian Empire. I am Drake Emverson.” He paused to bow. “I just came through the pass. Has the family ever tried to establish an inn up there? It looks like a prime location to me.”

  “No, no one has ever tried. That’s because as good as it looks now, it can be the purest hell in the winter. That pass snows solid for three to five weeks a year. No trade, no travelers, and no way out. That is also bandit country when the Guards are snug in their barracks.” Nicholas had seated Drake at a table and called for beer and food. The serving woman who brought the meal was a surprise. Middle aged and heavy, she didn’t look like an average inn wench. “This is my wife, Illana.”

  Drake stood again and bowed. “I am pleased to meet you, Cousin.”

  His use of the term cousin caused her eyes to widen. “Well, isn’t this a surprise. Where are you from, Cousin?”

  “The Darendian Empire,” Nicholas supplied.

  “A far traveler indeed. Welcome. Are you just passing through, or here on business?” she asked, watching him closely.

  “Both. I was just passing through, but I think that business is going to take over. I was just asking about an inn in the pass,” Drake answered, watching her closely.

  “You are in the wrong duchy, Cousin Drake. And that pass isn’t the place for an inn. Not the type that our clan can afford to build,” Illana said, watching Drake closely.

  “Maybe, maybe not. I am a Mage, by the way. How are your protective spells?” he asked, looking down at the plate of bison and onions that she had set in front of him.

  “Holding, but they could stand to be renewed, if you’re offering,” Nicholas answered. It was standard practice, according to Chanbern, to offer whatever service you could to any of the family that you visited. Drake’s power as an Adept Mage was beyond any human Mage, and he was making it his practice, whatever name he was using, to install very powerful spells on the family businesses.

  Drake nodded and commenced eating with unusual gusto. There had been nothing to eat in the pass, and he was feeling the pinch from not renewing his reserves after transforming. After his plate was cleaned of even the juice from the onions, he closed his eyes briefly and renewed the spells. He also repaired some minor damage to the roof that the failing spells had not prevented.

  Illana led him up to a smallish room, smiling and shrugging an apology. “Sorry, but the good rooms are all full of paying customers, Cousin. You understand.”

  Drake nodded and assured her that he did indeed understand. Since he was not going to be staying very long, he didn’t mind at a
ll. As darkness fell, the Daemon took to the streets of Kelsey. The thieves were, as usual, active after dark, and he found easy, if slim, pickings among them. The sun saw him counting out his take. Not bad, but not very good either.

  Nicholas greeted him as he came down the stairs. “Did you sleep well, Cousin?”

  “Quite well,” Drake answered, looking about. “I’ll be heading back over the mountains this morning to see the Duke of Highsterad. Where can I buy a horse?”

  Nicholas was surprised by his question. “Are you still determined to try and build an inn in the pass? That’s going to be very expensive.”

  “Not really. I told you, I’m a Mage. I intend to use magic to cut stone for the walls and slates for the roof. The only thing that I have to do is buy supplies, and help. And permission to build. Does the family have a branch in Highsterad?”

  “Oh, yes. In Cederholm, the capital. Cousin Haslett Farrier runs a branch of the trading house there. I will give you directions to his house. I hope you’re successful in your endeavor, Cousin, but I don’t hold out much hope. Even with the permission of the duke, that is not a prime spot for an inn.”

  Drake nodded and left, purchasing a horse from Illana’s brother. The trip was long, but uneventful. Ten days in the saddle delivered him to Cederholm. The trading house was easy to find, and Drake found himself both welcome and suspected.

  “Why didn’t you stop in before, Cousin?”

  “I didn’t know you were here,” Drake answered truthfully. “I looked for an inn, but didn’t see one. It didn’t occur to me to watch the trading houses.”

  “We are a bit out of the way, dearest,” Haslett’s wife, Odetta said, smiling softly. “What is your business, Cousin?”

  “Innkeeper, and Mage. I was traveling and found myself intrigued by the lack of an inn on the pass between Harley Point and Kelsey. Nicholas thinks I’m mad, but I want to try.” Drake laughed, and both Haslett and Odetta shook their heads.