Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton)

by Stevens, James

  “Tomorrow we can come back and salvage what we can of the others.”

  Shivering, Ammon looked up the hill and shook his head. “Not the gray one.”

  Theo paused and raised an eyebrow.

  Ammon’s voice was soft but stern. “They rode together in life, they should be able to ride together in death as well.”

  Theo followed Ammon’s gaze, and after a moment agreed. “Yes, you’re right. We will leave that one alone. Ammon, perhaps you are already more of a knight than any of us realized.”

  Ammon looked down in surprise, but said no more. Theo finished taking the saddle apart then passed the pieces through to Ammon in the cavern where they tied everything into bundles. Using some of the leather straps, Ammon made a small harness for Fulgid and tied some of the pieces to his back. With Fulgid in the lead, the three of them slipped headfirst into the crevice with their bundles dragging behind them for the long crawl back.

  ***

  The sun dipped below the horizon, reluctantly giving up the last few rays of daylight shining on the small group gathered at the base of the Wall. Boris was striding back and forth impatiently while Erik studied the stones in front of the crevice. Fulgid suddenly popped out of the hole and scampered over to Erik, dragging his little bundle behind him. Boris stopped pacing but didn’t breathe easy until both Ammon and Theo were standing in front of him and had explained what they’d found.

  Boris let out a great sigh of relief. “I was afraid someone was killing dragons up there and we had no way to help!”

  Clapping Ammon on the back, the king looked at the bundles thoughtfully. “Bring it all to my tent. Perhaps we may learn something about how long it’s been up there.”

  Boris untied the bundle from Fulgid and turned the thick leather over in his hands as they walked back to Erik’s tent. “A dragon graveyard, who would have guessed?” He shook his head sadly.

  After they lit the lanterns, they spread the pieces across the table where they could examine the saddle.

  “Fascinating!” Leaning close, King Erik pointed to a small faded yellow insignia stamped deep into the leather of the seat and he traced it with his finger.

  “That is the crest of the House of Les, an old family line that died out about fifteen years ago. If their line had continued, The House of Les would have been next in line to the throne after mine, provided they had an heir linked to a dragon. I had no idea there were ever any knights within their House that had died in battle, but I suppose they may have at some point. They were a close ally to my own House and were powerful in their own right, owning large portions of land and businesses throughout the kingdom. Unfortunately, bandits killed the last members and ended the line.”

  Erik smiled at Ammon. “You would have liked their House crest Ammon, it looked very much like Fulgid.”

  Ammon peered down at the insignia and felt a shock of recognition run through him. Not only did look like Fulgid, but it was the exact same design as the ring he’d lost! Boris leaned past him to look at the design, and then suddenly stood up straight with his jaw open.

  Erik looked back and forth at the two of them. “Now what’s the matter with you two? You look like know something I don’t!”

  Boris fumbled through his belt pouch and mumbled to himself while Ammon slowly sank into a chair in confusion. Suddenly Boris shouted, “Got it!” and he held the ring up in front of him. Smiling, he handed it to Ammon.

  “You left this back in the tent when you were captured. I’d completely forgotten about it until just now!”

  Ammon sat with his mouth open, holding the ring in the palm of his hand.

  Erik folded his arms across his chest. “Would somebody mind telling me what is going on?”

  Boris pulled up a chair and sat down. “I think Ammon will have to tell this one, because I don’t yet know the story either, but I believe you should take a close look at his ring.”

  Ammon handed the ring to Erik and sat wordlessly while he studied the engraving of the gold dragon. Turning it over in his hands, he looked at Ammon with a raised eyebrow.

  “Well, son, where did you find this ring?”

  “I didn’t find it!” Ammon lowered his eyes. “It was given to me by my mother.”

  Erik’s blue eyes peered at him intently. “Your mother gave this to you? Tell me about her, how did she get this ring?”

  “I…I don’t know where she got it. I was little when she put it on a string around my neck. She died right after that.”

  Erik was quiet for a minute. “Ammon, do you remember what your mother looked like?”

  He nodded. “I remember some. She had long blonde hair and blue eyes, and she had a little mark on her cheek that deepened when she smiled.”

  “Do you know how she died?”

  Ammon’s voice grew tight. “No. She put the ring around my neck and died. I stayed with her for a long time but…she didn’t move. Then I started walking. That’s how Ms. Garret found me and she took me in. That’s all I remember!”

  Boris nodded slightly. “Ms. Garret has been taking in orphans for years, that doesn’t surprise me.”

  Erik studied the ring once more before he handed it back to Ammon. “A very interesting story. A story I wouldn’t believe if it were told by anyone else. However, several things lead me to believe you are indeed telling me the truth.

  First, was the perfect description of your mother, Eleanor. She was a woman of remarkable beauty despite the small scar on her cheek she received as a child when picking wild thornberries. Second, you are not only the right age, but you have many of the same characteristics of your father Hale. Like you, he was also slight of build but strong as an ox and twice as stubborn. Were you to grow a beard, I suspect you’d look just like him.”

  Looking at Boris and Theo, Erik leaned back in his chair and gestured with his hands. “I knew there was something familiar about Ammon, but I couldn’t quite place it. Now I know why. What is your opinion, knights?”

  Boris cleared his throat. “Sire, I honestly would not know. I spent as little time as possible in the political arena surrounding the throne. My career, indeed, my entire life, has been devoted to the Kings Guard and as your military adviser.”

  Theo sat quietly for a moment. “My career has been much the same, but not nearly as long as Captain Boris’. My knowledge of the Houses is probably even less than his. I’m sorry I cannot be of much help.”

  Ammon listened carefully to every word. Was Erik actually saying that he knew his parents? Hale and Eleanor? Until now, he had never even known their names. That they were actually members of the Royal Court mattered little to Ammon. He had no idea what it even meant.

  Suddenly, Erik jumped to his feet and shouted irritably. “Well, I am still the king am I not? Therefore I declare it to be true!” He pounded his fist on the table so hard that pieces of the saddle fell to the ground.

  Startled, Ammon stared at the king in awe. The man standing in front of him was not the frail old man he’d first met. Instead, there stood a wizened man, full of vigor and strength and certainly not someone who could be easily dismissed, or trifled with. His voice boomed with authority.

  “Knights, it is time for a celebration and a House recognition! Something the kingdom hasn’t seen in many years.” Erik smiled down at Ammon. “Back at the palace, it would take weeks of preparations, but out here we have only simple accommodations. I think tomorrow afternoon will be more than enough time to gather and feast.”

  Turning his head to Boris and Theo, the king smiled even wider. “I think you’d best start informing everyone tonight! The cooks Theo brought in will want an early start.” He chuckled softly for a moment. “Have Knight Shane himself inform the head cook of tomorrows festivities!” Erik placed a hand on Ammon’s shoulder. “And find Kyle! Ammon will need help preparing for tomorrow and we’ll need a good breakfast to get started.”

  Erik sat down across from Ammon and smiled. “Ammon, tonight you will stay here with me. I’m sure yo
u have many questions that deserve to be answered.”

  With all the excitement, no one noticed Fulgid move to the back of the tent to stare at the back wall suspiciously. A few minutes later, a figure slipped silently from the shadows, and no one heard or saw the release of a messenger pigeon into the night.

  ***

  Ammon pulled the covers over his head but it did nothing to stop Kyle’s voice or his persistent shaking of the bed.

  "Ammon? It's time to rise sire! A busy day ahead!"

  There was no point ignoring him, no more sleep was to be had this day. Reluctantly, Ammon swung his legs over the edge of the cot and rubbed his eyes until Kyle shoved a cup of the dreaded steaming liquid into his hands.

  With an inaudible groan, he forced a sip past his lips and Kyle beamed in satisfaction. If nothing else, the foul black drink did seem to help wake him, so he continued to drink it. Erik had kept him up most of the night with unfathomable discussions about politics, the Houses of the Court, and other topics that were all far beyond anything he understood. Erik was convinced he was the only descendant from the House of Les and needed to know the intricacies of the palace, but Ammon had serious doubts. The more he heard of the politics of Gaul, the more he wanted just a small farm in the country somewhere.

  Kyle refilled the nearly empty mug and the moment he turned, Ammon dumped most of it behind the bag of Fulgid's old scales beside the bed. He had learned quickly that emptying the cup completely only seemed to encourage Kyle to give him more. So he cradled the cup in his hands until Boris entered the tent.

  He nodded to Ammon and gratefully accepted a steaming cup from Kyle. He took a long sip and sat on the corner of the cot next to Ammon.

  “Where’s Fulgid this morning?”

  Ammon reached over and lifted the pillow to expose the sleeping dragon curled underneath. Fulgid had decided the space beneath the pillow was reserved for him and had made himself quite comfortable there. Ammon didn’t mind it too much except for the snoring.

  Boris peered at the sleeping dragon and chuckled. “Well, I’ll be!” He shook his head. “He’s definitely different, isn’t he? So tell me, are you ready for today?”

  One look from Ammon’s bloodshot eyes and Boris nearly spit his drink across the tent. “Try to curb your enthusiasm just a bit eh?”

  Ammon stared down at his hands. “Boris, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do! King Erik talked all night about the House of Les and politics and all these responsibilities! I don’t understand any of it! All this because he thinks that I’m the son of Hale and Eleanor Les! To be truthful I’m not sure I fully believe that. Anyway, what difference does it make? Even if I am their son, the House is dead and anything of value was probably given away. What good is it to announce it to everyone that I might be an heir?”

  Boris sat for a minute. “You really don’t understand do you?”

  Ammon shook his head. "Not at all."

  “Well," Boris began. “I’m probably not the best one to explain it, but I'll tell you what I know. The king is convinced you are from the House of Les. That means the House is not dead, and it means you are the rightful heir to all the lands and properties of that House that were forfeited to the throne. You have just become a wealthy young man; very wealthy and a powerful figure in the political arena as well. Controlling that much currency in the kingdom makes any of your decisions carry a lot of weight in the Royal Court. That’s not all though."

  Boris’ crystal clear blue eyes focused intently on Ammon's face. “Tirate was next in line for the throne as the only heir of Erik’s house. Because he has attempted to assassinate Erik and declare himself king, he is a traitor and will be dealt with as such. His right to the throne has been cast out, which means the throne would be passed on to the next most powerful house. You, Ammon, are to be the next king of Gaul.”

  Ammon almost didn’t notice Kyle refilling his cup.

  ***

  Kyle had a seamstress waiting outside the tent when Ammon went out for his breakfast. He felt his face redden as she measured him from head to toe and wrinkled her nose at his leather shirt and breeches. Wordlessly she scrawled numbers across a small sheet of paper and hurried away, leaving him standing there, feeling like a fool.

  Erik had already left by the time Ammon arrived for breakfast, so he mounded as much food as he could fit on a plate and sat outside with Fulgid to eat. Everyone in the camp seemed to be bustling about on some errand or task, and he watched with mild interest until he and Fulgid had picked the plate clean.

  With their bellies full, Ammon nestled Fulgid into the crook of his arm and strolled towards the riverbank. Perhaps there he could do something useful like catch fish while he thought more about becoming a farmer. All the talk of being part of a big House would be forgotten once Erik was back on the throne and Ammon would be free to do as he pleased. After everything that had happened, he was certain the king would loan him enough money to buy a small lot of land. Perhaps he could raise animals or vegetables to pay off the debt.

  He was almost halfway to the river when Theo caught sight of him.

  “Ammon, wait up!”

  Ammon sighed. So much for a relaxing day of fishing.

  “I need to borrow your sword!”

  Puzzled, Ammon looked up at Theo’s face. “I left it next to my cot back at my tent. Are you going to give me lessons?”

  Theo smiled. “No, not today. What about your collection of Fulgid’s scales, is that there too?”

  Ammon nodded. “I know I’m supposed to keep those safe, but I have no place to put them and I can’t carry them around all the time!”

  Theo chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose you could in this camp. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that for you right now. Anyway, I’ll see you in a little while!”

  Ammon scratched Fulgid’s ears and watched as Theo trotted back to camp. “I guess we’ll get to fish after all!”

  Near the bank of the river, he stopped and selected one of several fishing poles leaning against a tree. Almost everyone took turns fishing to help provide the camp with food, but today the banks were deserted. He sat on a flat rock at the water’s edge while Fulgid stretched out in a sunny spot and watched. The Olog River ran fast and deep, but it held a plentiful supply of fish. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and listened to the roar of the water as it passed by.

  By noon he’d caught half a dozen good-sized fish and a few small ones that Fulgid ate before Ammon could even get them off the line. He was about to cast the line upstream again when a dark shadow fell over him and a voice rumbled like distant thunder.

  “What are you doing?”

  Startled, Ammon paused in mid-cast to look at Derek. “I’m fishing!”

  “Oh.” The big man bent down and gently scratched Fulgid behind the ears with a thick finger.

  Ammon smiled. Kyle had explained that during the war, he’d found Derek as a baby beside the river and brought him home to his sister to raise as her own. Despite his fearsome appearance, the man was as gentle and as simple as a lamb. For some reason he had developed an amusing fascination towards Fulgid. No matter what he was doing, Derek always stopped to admire Fulgid and the little dragon seemed content to accept his doting.

  “Oh!” The bald head jerked up, as if suddenly remembering. “They are looking for you.”

  Ammon sighed. He knew people would start looking for him eventually, but it was nice to get away for awhile. Reluctantly, he leaned the pole against a tree and handed the string of fish over to Derek’s big hands.

  “Would you bring these fish to the cooks? I’d better go to my tent and find out what I’m supposed to do.”

  Derek looked down at the fish and nodded. “Okay.”

  Ammon found Boris, Theo, and Kyle waiting impatiently by his tent. Boris’ voice boomed across the yard at him.

  “C’mon, boy! Where’ve you been?”

  Ammon simply shrugged his shoulders. “Fishing.”

  Boris shook his head. “Probably th
e most important day of his life and he goes fishing! Unbelievable!” He motioned Ammon to the tent entrance where Kyle waited with a new set of breeches and a silk shirt. “You’ll need to change into those. There is a set of boots in there too. We’ll wait here for you.”

  He reluctantly took the clothes and ducked into the tent. After wearing thick leather for so long, the new clothes felt thin and uncomfortable, and he felt foolish as he stepped outside.

  “Well, look at that!” Boris let out a low whistle. “He almost looks presentable!” He fingered Ammon’s long hair and frowned. “Now if we could just get rid of most of this…but we don’t have time for that now.” He bent over and picked up the old clothes and handed them to Kyle. “Please take these out to the edge of camp…and burn them! Oh, and make sure we’re not downwind!”