To my readers, especially the ones who never stopped asking for this book! Sorry it took so long – I hope you enjoy!
To Racheal and J.T. We all put up with each other’s craziness and yet we’re always there for each other – the true definition of family.
To my brother, Dre. If ever I was in a battle, I would always want you by my side.
To Jen. Your love and support have pulled me through some difficult times. Thank you for always reading my stuff and providing valuable feedback!
To Kate. We may clash sometimes, but to the bitter end we’re always there for each other. We should both get awards for how much crap we have to deal with from each other.
To my other “kids”: Sami, Sarah Jean, Phoenix, Jaden, and Isaiah. Each time I see you, it is always a joy. You can always find a way to make me smile, and for someone with depression, that is invaluable!
And as always, to the boys. You are truly the engine of my life.
Other Works by Robert Blanchard
The Roar of a Dragon
Published by Rowanvale Books
The Roar of a Dragon audiobook
Narrated by Peter Grant
PROLOGUE
Destiny is a very strange thing, isn’t it?
After the victory my companions and I achieved over Sirak and the Dyn’osi in Delmar, one would think that I would long to be accepted back into my home country, into the good graces of the people I worked so hard to serve.
“One” would be wrong.
To the surprise of even my friends, I had absolutely no desire to stay in that place any longer than I had to. I left the city in short order, along with nearly all of my companions—only Derrick, my wise-cracking friend, stayed behind, serving once again for the White Army, the army I had once served for several years. He was offered the position of General, the same position as my mentor, Sir Garridan, by King Baladir, but he declined—he had never wanted that kind of responsibility.
Once we all left the city, most of us went our separate ways. Timor, the time-traveling apprentice wizard distraught over losing the Rod of Therl back to Sirak, disappeared shortly after our victory in Delmar. Although he and I had never really seen eye-to-eye, I was concerned for him—he was stuck in this time since the time traveling jewel broke, and since he wouldn’t actually be born for several more decades, he really didn’t have anyone here except us. But he left without a word, and therefore it was out of my control.
Kirra, the Queen of the Thieves (as she is called), returned to the criminal city of Knol, to do whatever it is she does down there. Despite the fact that we had a natural dislike of each other—since she was a thief and I was a soldier—I couldn’t deny her skills. She was exceptional in combat, and her infiltration skills had proven very useful in Delmar.
That being said, Kirra not being around was good for my stress level.
All that was left were those who really had nowhere to go—myself, Iskandor the dragon, and of course, Lady Mirabelle.
Mirabelle was a soldier without a home, just like myself. But in dealing with her pain and loss, during the same time that I was dealing with my pain and loss, we found what we both needed to pull us through that difficult time: each other.
The legend surrounding Lady Mirabelle was that any man who met her fell in love with her at first sight. It was rumored to be magic or an enchantment of some kind, and after the battle in Delmar, that was proven to be the case—it was revealed that a ring she always wore, given to her by a resident of Longchester that she didn’t know, was enchanted. But knowing that I was confused over my feelings for her (not knowing if they were real or part of the enchantment), Mirabelle threw the ring into Lake Apera, and if anything, my love for her only got stronger. We helped each other a great deal in getting through those first couple of months.
Now we, along with Iskandor, were inseparable, and in keeping with my vision after the events in Delmar, we formed the Knights of Iskandor, a mercenary group gathered together to deal with dangerous situations, situations of evil. We took only jobs of virtue, dealing justice to evil and bringing hope and peace to the good.
Kirra joined us periodically, but not that often—not only was fighting evil not her thing, but there was still a great deal of tension between her and Mirabelle, So the two co-existed, because both were very close to me, but it was a very tenuous relationship, at best.
As for Iskandor, the dragon who had inadvertently caused my exile from Delmar, who had since become the greatest friend I ever had, he seemed to be doing very well. He enjoyed his role in our Knighthood immensely, and was never too far away, a silent, but comforting presence. But whenever we looked at each other, I could see behind his eyes—something was haunting him. When I saw his looks of trepidation and fear, I knew exactly what he was thinking.
The time is near. We must find out what you have become.
I knew it as well as he did, but I constantly put it off. After my exile from Delmar, about a year later, I was killed by brigands who, I suspect, were attempting to collect on a bounty put out by Sir Norvin, my greatest (and I use that term very loosely) rival in the White Army. Iskandor, a young dragon at the time, was there, but was too young to help me. He had the guise of a little boy as I was dying, but it took too long for him to shape shift back into a dragon. He carried that grief with him for three thousand years. In the meantime, he attempted to save my life by bringing me to an elder dragon, who powers could resurrect me. Unfortunately, it appeared that the dragon had gone mad, and instead of simply restoring me back to life, he put me in a deep sleep and performed foul magic on me. As a result, I woke up three thousand years in the future with long, black hair, white eyes (which only served to terrify most people), and magical powers that not only did I not want, but I could not control at times. Timor helped me a great deal, after my reluctance to even try, to harness my powers, and now I was very skilled at them, although I was still learning to use them. But I still despised my powers, and I vowed never to use them unless it was absolutely necessary. (I cheated at times, however—I found telekinesis to be very useful … not to mention fun.)
The Knights began to earn a good reputation in a short period of time. We traveled around the world, doing jobs in faraway places—and that is how we heard the first rumblings of trouble. First and foremost, Sirak, who had escaped Delmar virtually unscathed (and regained the valuable Rod of Therl, used in the Sol-haleth ritual that was performed to change the citizens of Delmar into the dreaded Ther-lor), had created a new kingdom, taking over the city of Min Lenoras, in the far west. There were reports from scattered, nearby settlements that talked of strange happenings in the area, that the city was strangely silent, and that the gates of the enormous, mountain-top city had been barred shut.
We also began to hear of trouble with the Mage’s Counsel. After the truth about Sirak and the Ther-lor spread across the land like wildfire, the people—nobles, peasants, and kings alike—began to call for control, and sometimes eradication, of mages as a whole. They claimed that the mages should have had better control and more knowledge of what Sirak was doing. The truth, however, is a great deal more complicated—many of the spells that Sirak used in the Sol-haleth ritual was already forbidden by the Initiatve, and Sirak was already a part of the Dyn’osi, one of the most secret of secret cults. So it follows that if they are doing their jobs properly, no one could have ever known what they were doing until they did it … and even then, you still might not know it. Honestly, there was little the Initiative could have done about it. Timor once told me that the mages employ their own forces in dealing with renegade mages, or magic out of control. These forces were often taken from the ranks of graduating wizards, (though a few mages out of every grad
uating class often volunteered), and were used strictly to deal with problems within their craft. One would think that, even if it were only for damage control, that they would be called in to deal with the Dyn’osi situation shortly, if they hadn’t been already.
Internally, I also had personal problems to deal with—my nightmares about Garridan still haunted me virtually every night. Sir Garridan Winslow, my mentor who had taken me as a farm boy and trained me to become the knight that I was, was turned into a Ther-lor by Sirak and forced to fight me. The Ther-lor are mindless, soulless beings, who have one purpose—to obey the will of their master, Sirak. Sirak ordered the Ther-lor Garridan to kill me while I was in the future, but it was I who killed him—but at terrible personal cost to myself. I began having horrible nightmares and flashbacks. After I and my companions infiltrated Delmar to save the city, I was forced to fight him again … and I killed him again, albeit accidentally. In my attempt to use my powers to destroy the magical barrier that housed the souls of all the people of Delmar, Sirak used his powers to throw Garridan in the way, and the blast did terrible damage to him. After the barrier was destroyed, and Garridan’s soul had been returned to his body, we were able to have a few final words with each other, and I had hoped that that would be the end of my nightmares, but it wasn’t to be—I was still plagued with guilt over Garridan’s death.
And then there was Norvin himself. One of my other purposes in coming back to Delmar was to confront him, perhaps even battle him, gain some retribution for the crimes he perpetrated against myself and the city of Delmar. It was Norvin who had struck a deal with the Dyn’osi that allowed them entry into the city, where they were able to perform the Sol-haleth and convert the city. It was also Norvin, I suspect, that put out the bounty on me that resulted in my death. But when I finally found Norvin in Delmar in the cathedral, he had been stabbed, almost near death, and I hadn’t bothered to finish him off.
But weeks later, when the remains of the cathedral had been cleared, Norvin’s body was nowhere to be found …
CHAPTER 1
Lady Mirabelle … so beautiful, so deadly.
I watched her from high above. She truly was awe-inspiring, from a standpoint of beauty, as well as skill. But she cared not for her looks, not at all. She did not rely on her long, flaming red hair, or her violet eyes to get somebody’s attention. If you didn’t respect her, a solid fist to the jaw would do the trick. She didn’t need me to protect her—she was quite capable of taking care of herself. She had been the leader of the Longchester military, and for good reason—she was every bit as efficient on the battlefield as she was captivating in appearance. All of this just made me love her more … and she loved me back—a ghostly creature with long, stringy black hair, pale skin, and white eyes. Perched on the tree branch I was crouched on, I couldn’t help but ponder how truly lucky I was.
She caught me staring at her, and she put two fingers to her own eyes, then pointed to the building we were supposed to be watching—a direct reminder to pay attention to my job. But even as she did that, she was smiling.
How? How did such a shining light penetrate through my darkness? I softly rubbed my “teardrop” scar just below my left eye as I pondered.
But, as Iskandor liked to say, “Questioning why is pointless.” Things that have already happened couldn’t be changed, so there was no reason to wonder about it … and in this case, I certainly had no problem accepting my fate.
Just then, sounds from the building … they were coming out.
My mind finally snapped back into focus, I tensed, pulling my black hood a little lower down over my head. With my vision that was enhanced by my powers, I could see everything in the dark night ahead of me. The only sounds were the chirping of crickets nearby, and a light breeze blowing through the trees—along with the sounds of the targets, coming out through the window of the warehouse we’d been watching.
Three bandits had just hit the ground … time to move.
I gave Mirabelle the signal, and she jumped out from behind the tree she was hiding behind, just as the bandits were about to pass her.
“Ahh!” one of them screamed. “It’s them! Run!” But before the nearest one to Mirabelle could get away, she swept his legs out from under him, and quickly held her dagger to his throat.
The remaining bandits—two of them—were now heading in my direction. I leapt down from the tree branch, some twenty-five feet in the air, landing hard in a crouch position right in front of them. Lifting my head slowly, I glared at them.
“It’s Aidan!” The nearest bandit screamed. At the glimpse of my white eyes, they reared back in terror. One of them though, decided he was brave enough to try and take me down. He charged at me, swinging his ax.
“Whoa, easy there!” I said, mocking him. “You’re going to throw out your shoulder if you keep flailing like that!”
The bandit didn’t acknowledge my taunts and kept on swinging fruitlessly. Having not drawn my twin black shortswords yet, I dove into a roll past him, nearly rolling into a tree, drawing my swords and twirling them as I rose.
The bandit charged again, had almost reached me before I could turn around. He swung his ax again, a swing that he put all of his force into, as evidenced by the fact that the blade of the weapon sunk deeply into the bark of the tree, sending wood splinters flying everywhere and getting the ax stuck. Cursing, the bandit tried desperately to free his weapon, but he was too late. I stood quickly, kneed the bandit in the stomach, and hit him in the face with the hilt of my left-hand sword. He sunk like a collapsing tent.
The remaining bandit was now utterly horrified. In desperation, he ran the only remaining way he could … to his left.
“Stop him!” Mirabelle yelled. “He’s getting away!”
“It’s taken care of,” I said with a smirk, sheathing my shortswords. A few seconds later, the still night was shattered by the roar of a dragon, followed by an ear-piercing, high-pitched scream that was almost as loud. Mirabelle smiled in realization.
“Are you sure he won’t eat him?” Mirabelle asked with a heart-stopping smile.
“That won’t happen,” I said confidently. “Iskandor knows our orders … ‘subdue and apprehend.’ Besides, he doesn’t like to eat humans—he says they have a bit of a sour taste to him.”
“Well, that’s not nice,” Mirabelle replied, “but good for us, I suppose.”
With that, we all turned our attention to (likely) the one conscious bandit. Mirabelle had tied up his arms and feet to keep him from escaping.
However, that didn’t keep him from being quiet … the bandit began to yell and scream for help.
With a short right hand to the jaw, he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
“Ouch,” Mirabelle said, glancing down at the bandit. “You need to watch it, Aidan—you know your powers make you stronger than most people.”
I smiled at her. “I was in full control.”
Then I heard sounds coming from my left, and I turned to find Iskandor, in human form, coming toward us with his right hand extended, guiding the unconscious form of a bandit, which was floating in front of him.
“What happened?” Mirabelle asked.
Iskandor shrugged. “Nothing at all. He simply fainted when he saw a dragon in front of him.”
I smiled at him. “How come you’re not still in dragon form?”
“I didn’t feel like taking down several trees just to walk over here,” Iskandor replied. “So, I shifted.”
I nodded in understanding. “Let’s round up these bandits get them back to the sheriff in Traiss for the reward.”
**********
The city of Traiss wasn’t that far away from the warehouse we were watching. The sheriff of the city was concerned that there were robberies taking place there, and he proved to be right. He was extremely pleased when we returned with the bodies; he paid a pretty good sum in gold for each bandit. We divided it up evenly and left the city, back out on the road again.
If we
didn’t have a certain destination in mind, we didn’t travel in a specific direction, and this was one of those nights. Most times, we would end up in a city where someone there would need help—thieves apprehended, beasts slaughtered, missing people found, and even in some cases, pets found. If the cause was merited, we took the job.
We were right on the Longchester city border, and we knew we needed to leave quickly, before King Marion learned of our presence. We journeyed south for a couple of hours, before settling in the Odieri Mountains, not far from a path that ran through the mountain range. In any other place, we wouldn’t want to risk a fire, but it was much too cold not to. Thankfully, when you have a dragon around, you need not worry about how you are going to start said fire.
Mirabelle took first watch, and I came to relieve her after a few hours. Instead of leaving to rest, however, she remained seated on a fallen log, and looked up at me with worried expression. “This is going to be the best time of our lives, isn’t it?”
I just stared at her in shock. “What do you mean?”
“Right here, right now,” she answered, staring unseeing into the fire. “Going around the land, working for the good, dealing with as many thieves and highway men as we can. But it’s coming, I can feel it … Sirak has been quiet for much too long, to say nothing of King Marion.”
I understood what she meant completely, and I put my arm around her as I sat down.
“I don’t mean to make what we’re doing sound bad,” Mirabelle reassured me. “Quite the contrary, Aidan—I love it. I love being in the Knights of Iskandor, and most of all, I love being with you.”
Her words sent a pleasant shiver through my body. “As I do, my love,” I whispered, drawing her in closer. She rested her head on my shoulder. Her wavy red hair was in my face, but I didn’t care one bit. For that brief moment, it felt like nothing else in the world mattered but us.
The Treachery Of A Weasel Page 1