The Dragoneer Trilogy

by Vickie Knestaut

  “Dragon Lord is a position you cannot control,” Trysten interrupted.

  Prince Aymon cringed. It was far more of a response than she had expected. The sudden silence around them was deafening.

  “I believe you have just proven my point,” Prince Aymon said. “Now, will you submit yourself to my authority, or shall I order scores of prison wagons to be sent this way?”

  Trysten’s heart thundered in her chest. She stepped forward, keeping her voice low enough that only Aymon could hear her. “Order whatever you want, but know that I will protect the people of this village from all of their enemies.”

  “You threaten a prince of Cadwaller?” Aymon sneered.

  “I did no such thing,” Trysten leaned closer, her voice a low growl. “I warned. And you and I both know I can do it.”

  Prince Aymon stood a few heartbeats longer, then lifted his chin slightly and turned back to the tents. With a snap of his wrist, he ordered his men to join him.

  Trysten took several steps toward the Prince. “And get those tents out of here! You are no longer welcome on weyr grounds.”

  Prince Aymon continued on as if she hadn’t spoken, although his hordesmen did nothing to hide the glowers they cast in her direction.

  When the last of the royal hordesmen had disappeared into the Prince’s tent, Trysten let out a tense breath. Excited talk erupted all around her, flashing through the crowd of villagers like a wind-driven blaze over dry grass.

  Trysten ordered the dragons to be taken back to the weyr, then she led Elevera across the yard.

  As they neared the entrance, Tuse stepped up beside Trysten. “I couldn’t help but overhear that exchange out there—”

  “He’s bluffing,” Trysten said.

  “Is it true? Are you a Dragon Lord? I’ve heard the stories,” Tuse asked.

  Trysten glanced at the village overseer. “What stories are those?”

  Tuse shrugged. “Can you really talk to the dragons?”

  Her heart skipped. A blush of embarrassment would have blossomed over her face if it weren’t already hot and red with anger. “He’s bluffing,” she repeated. “He knows that dragons will do him no good. I understand dragons in a way that would make it difficult for him to defeat us in any kind of battle.”

  Tuse nodded. “It was the bit about the prison wagons that concerned me the most.”

  “Prison wagons are mostly wood. They’ll burn easily.”

  Tuse went rigid and didn’t respond right away. “Would you really do that? Would you order an attack on a royal caravan?”

  “If they came to arrest the people of Aerona village? In a heartbeat.”

  “Trysten,” Tuse said as they were jostled by villagers accompanying the hordesmen back to the weyr, “you can’t expect a challenge to the King’s power to go unanswered. You must see it from his position. If you can defy the King’s will without reprimand, then he has no power. Others will join you. Anyone who has any kind of displeasure with the King or his decisions will openly question his power. He can’t have that. He can’t have his legitimacy questioned. He will do what he has to do to assert himself as the one in power.”

  “Any king who would risk his kingdom over an imagined slight deserves neither obedience nor a kingdom,” Trysten said.

  Tuse didn’t respond right away. “That can go both ways.”

  Trysten stopped and stared at him. A villager bumped into her shoulder, then moved around her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Are you risking your kingdom over some perceived slight?” Tuse asked.

  “Perceived? Tuse, he’s threatening to have the whole village hauled off to the mother city. In irons, no less.”

  “He’s dealing with a perceived threat to his kingdom. If you were less of a threat to him—”

  “Oh, if I were a man? Is that it?” Trysten interrupted.

  “Now, Trysten—” Tuse clucked, palms out to try to calm her.

  “Don’t shush me. If we get down to the heart of this, that’s the problem here. If I had been born my father’s son, then none of this would be happening. No one would have blinked an eye at me becoming Dragoneer. And you certainly would not be talking down to me as if I were a child.”

  From the corner of her eye, Trysten noticed Mardoc leaning against the door frame of the weyr, watching the exchange. He was within earshot. She sighed. She would have to deal with him later, certain that he’d also want a word with her.

  “That’s not entirely true,” Tuse stuttered.

  Trysten paused. “Yes. Yes, it is. If a man had captured an enemy horde, it would have been chalked up to exceptional leadership. But because I’m a woman, it has to be made mystical, like there has to be magic at work to explain how a woman could achieve so much. The truth is that I have done what I have done because of who I am and how I was raised, and not what I may be. So, no, you cannot take that out of the equation.”

  After a glance to her father, she continued. “You can’t separate the two. You can’t say that if I were a man, this would still be happening. If the King is threatened because a woman challenged his law, then it’s his fault for making laws that do not serve all of the people of his kingdom.”

  Tuse threw up his hands in exasperation. “I’m trying to help you, Trysten. I’m trying to help all of us. Your parents included. This is a very serious matter.”

  “I know,” Trysten said, then added a forced, half-hearted chuckle. “Believe me. I take the threat of being arrested and having my horde disbanded very seriously.”

  “I’m just saying that there is more at stake here. Look at the village. Would you risk an all-out war with the kingdom over this?” Tuse asked, looking almost afraid to hear her answer.

  Fire burned over Trysten’s cheeks. “I will risk myself and my entire horde for any villager in Aerona, so don’t ask me if I would risk war. Ask Prince Aymon. He is the one who has called for troops.”

  Trysten turned away from Tuse as he opened his mouth. She led Elevera on across the yard. At the entrance to the weyr, she lifted her chin and looked at her father, ready for his argument. Instead, Mardoc held her gaze for a moment, then nodded once and motioned her forward with his head.

  As she and Elevera entered the weyr, the hordesmen, the weyrmen, and a gathering of villagers all began to clap and whistle for Trysten.

  “That was some flying!” Kaylar called out as she rushed up to Trysten. “Can you teach me to fly like that?”

  Despite herself, Trysten grinned. “Hardly. I can try, though.”

  “I’d love that! That was incredible! I thought for sure that you and Muzad were goners, but the way that Elevera slipped past his dragon… Wow!”

  Elevera was taken by a hand and led back to her stall as others congratulated Trysten on her ace flying. More than once, she was thanked by her hordesmen for putting the Prince’s man in his place.

  “The King wouldn’t dare send an army here,” Paege said as he clapped Trysten’s shoulder. “It would be a waste of an army.”

  Trysten smiled back at him and did her best to look like she believed him.

  Chapter 33

  Pounding on the door woke Trysten from a disturbing dream. She sat upright in bed, panting. The knocking started again. She heard her mother cross to the door of the cottage.

  The light seeping in through the window was barely beyond dawn. She got out of bed and rummaged around for her clothes.

  “Trysten!” her mother called.

  “Coming!” she answered as she struggled to pull her leggings up under her nightgown.

  The door creaked open. Caron stuck her head in. “It’s Prince Aymon. There’s an emergency.”

  Trysten sought out the dragons in her mind. They were at ease, only slightly disturbed by the presence of her dream, but nothing was affecting them at that moment.

  “What emergency?” Trysten asked. She whipped the nightgown over her head.

  “He won’t say, but he says needs your help immediately.”


  Trysten shrugged into her tunic. “That seems unlikely. He was threatening to have me arrested yesterday.”

  “Trysten.” Her mother’s look encouraged her to be diplomatic.

  She grabbed a vest and shrugged into it as she slipped past her mother and on to the front of the cottage. She opened the door to find Prince Aymon standing as if he’d been looking to the west.

  “We need to organize a search party immediately,” he said as soon as he saw her.

  Trysten blinked at Prince Aymon. “A search party? Who is missing?”

  The Prince glanced over Trysten’s head into the cottage, then reached for her arm. His hand stopped, then he motioned for her to come outside.

  Trysten stepped out of the cottage and closed the door.

  “It is a sensitive matter, so I will ask you to keep it quiet. My men were overpowered last night. The prisoners escaped.”

  “The prisoners? Which set?”

  “All of them. Both of them.”

  “All of them!”

  “Quiet!” Prince Aymon said as he brought his fingertips to his lips. “Keep it down. I don’t want panic in the village.”

  “If there is someone who doesn’t know by now, it is only because she is still asleep. When did this happen?” Trysten asked.

  Prince Aymon’s posture tightened. “Last night.”

  “What time last night? How much of a lead do the prisoners have?”

  Prince Aymon drew in a breath that looked painful. “The prisoners escaped somewhere between dusk and dawn.”

  Trysten’s eyes grew wide. “By the wilds! How often do you change guards?”

  “Day and night watches have been adequate in the past.”

  Trysten shook her head. “All right. I take it that you believe they went west.”

  “Where else would they go?” the Prince asked.

  “And you want me to join your search party?”

  A tinge of pink covered Prince Aymon’s cheeks as he stared off at the mountains. “I am a little short-handed at the moment. We have a force of sixteen riders, myself included. We need to cast a wide net. These prisoners are obviously quite intelligent. They will not run straight west. They will run a circuitous route to make their path hard to determine.”

  “I’ll get Aerona’s riders ready,” Trysten said.

  Not an hour had passed before Trysten led the Aerona horde out into the yard where the remainder of the royal horde waited. The men stood stiff, their faces hard and full of challenge.

  “I will ride point,” Prince Aymon said as he stepped into the space between the two hordes. He nodded to his commander. “Zandell, you and your men will fly a routine search to my right.”

  The Royal Commander nodded at the Prince, then locked his eyes on Trysten.

  “Trysten, you will fly a search pattern to my left. Arrange your riders as you see fit. Prepare to depart immediately.”

  Trysten turned to her hordesmen. She started to signal for the horde to fan out to her left and arrange themselves by rank, then she stopped.

  “Paege, I want you to fly at the far end of the search perimeter and command the far half of the wing.” She turned to Kaylar. “You will fly to my left. Rank will fall from there.”

  Kaylar looked on in shock, her mouth open.

  “Is that all right with you?” Trysten asked Kaylar.

  “Yes,” Kaylar said. She then left her dragon behind long enough to run up to Trysten. She planted a finger in the middle of her chest. “Why me?”

  “If you want to learn to fly like me, you have to watch me. And from a tactical standpoint, it makes more sense to put a commander at each end of the wing. If a message has to be conveyed to someone with authority, then it’s easier to reach Paege if he’s near the end of the wing, or me, if near the head. The fewer people the message has to pass through, the better. And I thought that you might enjoy riding beside me. I think you’ve earned it.”

  The grin returned to Kaylar’s face. “You bet!”

  Kaylar hurried back to Verillium. Trysten turned to Elevera. As her dragon crouched down to let her mount, Prince Aymon called out her name and approached.

  “Before we take off, I just wanted to say that it did not escape my notice that you have not blamed my men for this situation. Furthermore, I also noted that you freely and swiftly offered your help and the help of your horde despite our differences. I won’t forget that.”

  Trysten stared at the Prince. His statement surprised her. It showed decency she hadn’t expected from him. She glanced down to the boots that ended just below his knees. His sword and scabbard dangled from the side of his belt beneath his purple cape.

  “Let’s get going,” she finally said as she looked up to his eyes. “They’re not getting any closer.”

  Prince Aymon nodded once, then turned and jogged back to his own dragon.

  Trysten pulled herself up atop Elevera. As she settled into her saddle and her hands did their work of securing her to the dragon, she watched Prince Aymon mount his royal white dragon.

  The man was a conundrum sometimes and infuriating all the time.

  Chapter 34

  The landscape passed slowly beneath them. Elevera swooped from side-to-side. Trysten peered over the side of the dragon that was dipped toward the ground. When Elevera swayed in the other direction, Trysten turned and looked over the other golden shoulder.

  They had seen nothing for miles. She had hoped to spot a clear path cut through the heather, the mindless racing of escaped prisoners who had trampled the plants beneath their feet and left a trail straight to them. But the prisoners had left no clues to follow. The search party fanned out, hoping that they saw the men before they reached the safety of the mountain canopy.

  As Elevera shifted again, Trysten looked up to relax her eyes and stretch her neck for a moment. Far off to her right, Prince Aymon sat upon his dragon and peered at the ground below. His purple cape flapped out behind him. Trysten peered to the left and saw Kaylar keeping pace, her attention fixed on the ground as well.

  Before she turned her own attention back to the search, Trysten studied the mountains ahead. They were close enough that she could make out details, individual slopes. The tree line was a distinct band beneath the white peaks. Between two of the mountains, she saw the valley of the River Gul, where it crashed out of the rocks after tumbling all the way down from the peaks as snowmelt. Below, the river rushed on, swollen with the melt of fighting season.

  Movement caught Trysten’s eyes. She nudged Elevera with her heel. In response, the dragon drifted to the left and bled off some altitude. Sure enough, someone was crashing through the heather, running. But running toward her, arms waving, trying to catch her attention.

  Trysten signaled for Prince Aymon and pointed to the figure below. She indicated that she was going to ground to investigate and motioned for Kaylar to follow. Together the two dropped down.

  A few seconds later, Trysten glanced back, and with annoyance, saw that the Prince was descending as well.

  As soon as Elevera’s claws took the ground, the running man began to shout Trysten’s name as he sped toward them. It was Moore, the man Kaylar had forcefully ejected from her father’s tavern. He had been on the cutting team.

  “Moore?” Trysten called out.

  “Trysten! Thank the sky I found you! By the wilds, I thought I was a dead man!”

  “Excuse me,” Prince Aymon yelled out as his dragon settled down next to Trysten’s. “But we are searching for some men who may have passed this way.”

  Moore stopped and flung his arm back, pointed in the direction of the mountains. “There are men enough back there! We were ambushed. The whole lot of us. Coming up to the edge of the forest. Me and all the others. We were there to cut your wood, Trysten. We were there. And they… these men come running out of the woods, screaming. It was…”

  Moore’s voice broke. He fell to his knees. A look of anguish twisted his face. “I tried, Trysten. By the wilds, I tried to fight them
off. There were so many. And the air. It was thick with arrows and screams. We ran. We dropped everything and ran.”

  “Who were they?” Prince Aymon asked.

  Moore shook his head. “Demons. They screamed bloody murder. Their faces were painted dark. Their clothes were dark. We didn’t see a thing until they ran out of the woods.”

  Trysten slipped down off of Elevera and walked up to the man. “It’s all right, Moore. You’re safe now.”

  “Safe! Safe? How can I ever be safe again? I saw all of my friends, my brothers, both of them, cut down before me.”

  “What did the attackers want?” Prince Aymon asked.

  Trysten cut a glance back at the Prince and hoped he’d take a hint from her glare, but he appeared oblivious.

  Moore ran his fingers up into his hair and yanked. “I tried, Trysten. I… They caught us by surprise. I’ve never seen anything like it. We never had trouble before. They…” He shook his head.

  With a glance to the vacant slope of the mountain behind him, Trysten crouched down and took Moore by the elbow. “Come on. We’ll get you home.”

  “Home?” Prince Aymon said. “We must investigate, and we must do so now. How long ago was this attack?”

  “Kaylar?” Trysten called, and then nodded to Moore.

  The young woman shook her stout chin. “I’m not leaving your side. Not if there are brigands in the woods.”

  “Fine. Ascend. Signal the next hordesman to come back here. Moore, you tell the hordesman I said to get you back to the village.”

  “How long ago was the attack?” Prince Aymon pressed.

  “I don’t know. It was… I fell. We were running. Willum was right behind me. Right on my blessed heels. He cried out and grabbed my ankle. I fell. I rolled over, and there was Willum in the grass, an arrow sticking out of his back and looking like it had grown there. He lifted up his hand and reached out for me. His face was red, mouth open like he was screaming. Then he collapsed. Dead. Just like that.”

  Moore caught his breath, then continued, “The air was filled with their screaming. Oh, by the gods. All that screaming. Arrows flew through the air like birds, like a flock of sparrows flying faster than you thought they could. So many arrows. I knew that I’d be a dead man if I tried to stand up, so I laid still. I pretended to be dead. I stayed there all through the evening and into the night. It wasn’t until dark that I dared to get up.”