The Dragoneer Trilogy

by Vickie Knestaut

  “Finally. Yesterday afternoon then,” the Prince made no effort to hide his impatience.

  “Aymon!” Trysten snapped.

  “There is more at stake here than niceties,” Prince Aymon said. “If this man’s story is true, then these aren’t a band of simple thieves and rogues. We must investigate immediately.”

  “It’s true!” Moore pleaded as he clutched Trysten’s arm. “They aren’t thieves. They are madmen! To see the way they painted their faces… The screams. The arrows. They were… devils.”

  “Come on,” Prince Aymon called. “We’ll fly ahead and investigate.”

  “And leave Moore here?” Kaylar asked.

  “He’s safe now,” Prince Aymon said.

  “Ascend,” Trysten said and flicked her wrist up to indicate the sky to Kaylar. “Signal the next in line to go to ground here. Moore, you tell the hordesman that I said to take you back to the village and fetch Galelin to you. Do you understand?”

  Moore shook his head. “You can’t go by yourselves. You have the horde up there? You should take the whole horde. My word, there were scores of them. These weren’t a band of thieves, I tell you. They were a horde of devils!”

  “Go,” Trysten said to Kaylar.

  With an answering nod, Kaylar pulled up on the lip of her saddle and flicked her heels against Verillium’s sides. The dragon leaped into the air and slowly ascended.

  “Come on,” Prince Aymon said. “You and I should be off.”

  “What’s your hurry?” Trysten snapped.

  “Whoever did this is getting farther away as we speak.”

  “What do you propose to do? We can’t track them through The Wilds. The canopy is too thick. It’s too easy to hide from dragons among the trees.”

  The Prince nodded. “It’s easy enough for a man or two, or even a small group to hide, but nothing as large as what Moore describes. Even from the air, we should be able to see traces of movement through the breaks in the canopy. At the very least, a group that large and bold will light campfires. They will be unable to disguise the smoke.”

  “Go on,” Moore said. He released Trysten’s arm with a slight shove. “Find those devils! Make them pay.”

  Trysten peered up into the sky. Kaylar’s dragon was a dark smudge of magenta against the blue. She would be within hailing distance of the horde in less than a minute.

  “All right. Stay put,” she said to Moore. “And flag the rider when you see him.”

  Moore nodded. “I will.”

  Prince Aymon lifted into the sky as Trysten climbed into her saddle. Without having to give a command, Elevera leaped into the air and began to follow Prince Aymon’s dragon. Soon, Kaylar and Verillium fell in behind them, riding a short distance back, struggling to catch up to the Prince, who urged his dragon on with haste.

  Before long, they came across the site of the massacre. Elevera tilted to her side slightly to allow Trysten to lean out and peer at the trampled heather and the long grasses that grew close to the mountain slopes. Bodies lay interspersed in the vegetation. From above, she could see their twisted shapes drift into view, and then become eclipsed again by the grasses as she sailed along.

  The wagons stood abandoned, but not empty. The tools for cutting down trees and processing lumber were still aboard. A trunk lay open next to one of the wagons. Bits of metal glittered in the sun. One horse had fallen, still fastened to the wagon by its harness. The rest of the horse teams were gone.

  It made little sense. Trysten’s brow furrowed. Bands of thieves and rogues lived in The Wilds, but they rarely attacked a group so large as a cutting party. And if they had been attacked by thieves, then why weren’t the wagons stripped clean of the valuable tools? For that matter, why were the wagons even there at all? Even though of little use on the mountain slopes, they could quickly be dismantled and the lumber used for dwellings. The metal could be melted down and made into other things.

  Obviously, the cutting party had not been attacked by a group of thieves. Who then? Devils? Demons? Surely not.

  Trysten began to circle the site to further investigate from the air. As she did so, she heard Prince Aymon shout. She glanced out toward him. He emphatically pointed to the slopes of the mountains and the edge of the forest a few hundred feet off.

  She shook her head and pointed to the ground.

  Prince Aymon brought his dragon around and yelled at her to follow him. “We must secure the perimeter first.”

  It was clear there were no survivors below. Trysten’s gaze drifted out and down to the ragged line of trees that marked the edge of The Wilds as well as the base of the mountains. Shadows deepened as the forest abruptly thickened and marched up the side of the slope. Anything could be in there, hidden from their view. Perhaps it was wise to look first.

  Verillium had caught up to Elevera and the royal dragon. Kaylar glanced to the ground below, then on to Trysten. Her face was pale and stricken, then hard as stone and filled with rage. Prince Aymon gestured again for them to follow him. Trysten nodded, then repeated the order to Kaylar. Together, the three of them flew on to the edge of the woods.

  Prince Aymon swept down low over the treetops. Though his dragon was still high enough to give him a broad view, it was at the edge of an arrow’s range. And if that arrow had been fired from the top of a tree, it could easily lodge itself into the soft underside of a dragon. Trysten ordered Kaylar to remain up with her where it was safer.

  The canopy closed in beneath them. The trees weren’t completely filled in yet so they caught glimpses of the broken stone and dark ground beneath. To Trysten’s relief, as well as her regret, she saw no signs of the attackers. The woods appeared to be vacant. She lifted her head and scanned the slopes for signs of campfires.

  The sound of wind in her ears was broken by a series of loud clacks and thumps. She barely had time to glance down to the forest below when a volley of arrows—no, spears—erupted from the canopy. They flew faster and farther than any human hand could have ever thrown them.

  “Aymon!” Trysten cried out, but it was too late. She doubled over and clutched at her shoulder as one of the spears buried itself in the shoulder of the Prince’s dragon. A spray of blood exploded from the dragon’s side, near the saddle. Trysten felt faint as she watched the white dragon crumple, drop from the sky and crash through the canopy. The other spears sailed on until they reached the apex of their arcs beneath Trysten and Kaylar and then fell back to the canopy beneath them.

  “What in the wilds!” Kaylar screamed out.

  Trysten and Elevera dove to the opening in the canopy created by the Prince’s falling dragon. The white dragon laid on the ground. The dragon lifted her head and cried, then collapsed as Prince Aymon struggled with his restraints.

  There was no way to land safely, no way to get the bulk of Elevera through the canopy. Trysten glanced up at Kaylar, then signaled for her to follow. She ended the signal by pointing at Elevera. “Follow her!” Trysten shouted.

  Without waiting to see if Kaylar understood, Trysten commanded Elevera to circle back around, low, and then hover over the hole in the canopy. As she did, Trysten undid her straps, then pictured Elevera catching her as she fell. Trusting her dragon to understand what she needed, she flipped her right leg up and over the dragon before sliding off the saddle. As she fell, Elevera’s tail whipped around and caught Trysten in the chest. She grasped the dragon’s tail and let her weight pull the tail down until it was fully extended.

  Then she let go.

  Chapter 35

  Trysten landed on the ground in a crouch after a drop of six feet or so. The air left her lungs in a whoosh, and she fell back onto her behind. In front of her, the royal dragon was still. Her chest did not move, and Trysten sensed nothing from her. The end of a spear stuck out from the left side of her chest. Red blood ran in wide rivulets across the soft, white scales of her chest and pooled onto the dark ground.

  Up the hill, twigs snapped. Rocks crunched and grated. There were no shouts,
but Trysten felt something coming. She glanced over her shoulder but saw nothing through the silver trunks of the forest.

  She looked up as she scrambled to her feet. She could see Elevera through small breaks in the canopy, heading toward the edge of the woods where she would wait for Trysten and the Prince.

  “Are you all right?” Trysten asked as she raced around the dragon.

  Prince Aymon grimaced as he tried to push himself away from his fallen mount. His left leg was pinned beneath the dragon’s bulk.

  A flash of her father went through her head, the agonized look on his face as Aeronwind lay upon his leg. The world she knew her whole life had ended that day when the indestructible Mardoc became as mortal and vulnerable as anyone. She shook her head to clear it. There was no time for this now!

  Trysten glanced up the hill again. The canopy hid those who approached from higher up.

  “That was a dumb move on your part,” Prince Aymon said. “My leg is stuck. Go on. My bow is beneath Chyrvan. Give me yours, and I’ll hold them off as long as I can.” His face fell as he realized that she had leaped to the ground without her bow.

  Trysten crouched next to the Prince and pushed against the dragon as hard as she could. The snapping of twigs and the rattling of rock from up the slope grew louder.

  “Move!” Prince Aymon shouted. “Get back to the village. Get back to my men. Let them know that there is an army hidden in the woods. It was no band of thieves that attacked us. Only an army would have such weapons. You have to warn my men for the sake of your village!”

  “I would,” Trysten grunted as she pushed at the dragon’s weight, “if you’d kindly pull your leg out.”

  “It’s stuck! You don’t have time for this. Run! That’s an order. It’s more important that you warn my men. Go!”

  “Shut up!” Trysten yelled as she lurched over and grabbed the Prince beneath his arms. “Shut up and pull!”

  She threw her weight backward and shoved with her heels. Despite herself, she glanced up the slope and saw some movement, far ahead. Feet. Dark boots skittered down the hillside.

  She let out another grunt as she yanked and twisted. Prince Aymon groaned, then slid partially free. He planted his other heel against the seat of his saddle and pushed. Trysten fell backward to the ground as he popped free.

  “By the dragon’s breath!” he gasped as he struggled to stand. His left boot was still beneath the dragon, and his face twisted in pain as he put weight upon his foot, bare but for a stocking.

  In a deft move, Trysten jumped to her feet and swung herself under Prince Aymon’s arm and draped it over her shoulder. “Move!”

  “Go on,” Prince Aymon said as he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m only going to slow you down. I’ll get us both killed.”

  “You will if you don’t shut up and move!”

  Prince Aymon stumbled down the hillside, limping hard on his injured foot.

  “Trysten of Aerona, I am giving you a direct order from the Cadwaller court. You are to leave me behind and proceed back to my horde at your best speed to warn my men. They will save your village.”

  “Save your breath. What are you going to do? Have me arrested?”

  “I am not kidding.”

  “I’m not either.”

  “You cannot put the life of a single man above that of an entire village, even for a Prince.”

  “Fish and birds, you talk a lot! Can we leave your tongue behind?”

  “This is not funny,” Prince Aymon said.

  “You’re telling me? Look, as Dragoneer, I am responsible for the lives of everyone in the village, and that includes visitors, invited or otherwise. Now shut your wild mouth and run!”

  A shout erupted behind them, and Trysten spared a glance over her shoulder. Men had reached the fallen dragon. While a few of them stopped, a number pointed at Trysten and Prince Aymon. They called out something that sounded like the language spoken by the prisoners. These men, however, were dressed in dark clothing, and their faces were painted in black and shades of brown.

  They were not devils at all, but an army of Western soldiers. They hadn’t been attacking because they had been amassing.

  “Hurry it up,” Trysten grunted.

  “I told you to leave me behind. If you’re too stubborn to abide my orders, then I’m not going to feel sorry for you when you die with me.”

  “You’re going to live if I have to sling you over my shoulder and carry you out of here just so I can prove you wrong.”

  An arrow thwacked into a trunk yards ahead of them.

  “I suggest you revise your priorities,” Prince Aymon said. He made an effort to step away from her.

  Trysten wrapped an arm around his chest, pulled him close and dragged him on. “You won’t stand a chance on your own!”

  “And you won’t stand a chance with me.”

  “Don’t be so sure of that,” Trysten said, panting.

  Another arrow whizzed past them. It struck the side of a trunk. A flash of wood chips flew off as the arrow dropped to the ground.

  Ahead, the forest opened up. There, to Trysten’s relief, Verillium and Elevera sat among the grass and heather, backs presented to them and ready to launch themselves into the air. Both dragons twisted their necks around and stared back at them. Kaylar sat turned around in the saddle, her face, even at such a distance, pale and alarmed.

  “You’re not going to make it with me.” Prince Aymon struggled again to get loose.

  Trysten yanked him close. “You make me trip, and we’re both done.”

  “I can’t feel sorry for someone dumb enough to throw her life away like this.”

  “And I don’t know why I’m risking my life for someone with such a low opinion of me.”

  “It’s not a matter—”

  “Shut up and run!” Trysten screamed.

  An arrow sailed over Trysten’s head and fell to the forest floor. Ahead, Kaylar pulled her bow from her saddle. There was no way she could repel the attack. Even if she dismounted and charged into the woods, one woman could not hold off an entire army.

  But one dragon could.

  “Elevera!” Trysten called.

  The gold dragon, picking up her thoughts before she was done thinking them, leaped up into the air, twisting around, her wings shoving the air and nearly the world itself around as she turned toward the woods and swept in.

  “She’ll never fit in here,” Prince Aymon said. “Trees are too close. Canopy is too tight.”

  “I don’t need her in here.”

  Shadows passed over the dappled sunlight on the forest floor as Elevera sailed overhead.

  Trysten held her breath as she listened for the loud cracks and thumps that had proceeded the launched spears. Instead, she heard the grumble of a dragon and the whoosh of fire.

  Screaming broke out behind them.

  Trysten risked a glance back. The canopy of the forest largely protected the army, but the idea of a dragon putting down fire had rattled the soldiers briefly and bought Trysten and the Prince a few precious seconds.

  “They’re going to quickly realize that she can’t hurt them.”

  “Not here. Not while under the protection of the canopy. That’s the point. We only have to make it into the open.”

  Prince Aymon stumbled on with renewed speed. His breath came in ragged gasps. Each step on his injured foot sent his fingers digging into the flesh of Trysten’s upper arm and shoulder.

  The shouting behind them subsided, and the sound of footfalls rushing forward resumed.

  An arrow sailed past the Prince’s head far too close for comfort. Another one pegged a tree behind them with a solid thwip as it embedded itself in the wood.

  Ahead, Kaylar notched an arrow onto her bowstring and sat ready, waiting for the enemy.

  Prince Aymon stumbled. Trysten tightened her grip on him to keep him from falling. He caught his footing, and they kept running.

  Another shadow passed over the dappled light. Another gush of f
ire rippled through the tender leaves of the spring trees.

  The Western army yelled and hollered, but there wasn’t much time lost in their chase. They continued to draw closer.

  To the left, a small clearing opened up around a length of scree.

  “Over here,” Trysten shouted and yanked the Prince to the left. The stone would probably kill his foot, but open space was the only thing that would save them at this point.

  Renewed shouting broke out among the army as they realized what she was doing. Several arrows flew past them as they cut to the left. A punch landed in Trysten’s side. She fell into Prince Aymon, who slammed into a tree.

  Trysten dropped to her knees. An arrow lay beside her. The tip was covered in fresh blood. She glanced down to see a gash in the side of her leather riding armor.

  “We’ve almost made it,” Prince Aymon said. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around the collar of her leather bodice and yanked.

  “Now you want to escape?” Trysten asked as she grasped his belt and pulled herself to her feet.

  “If it’s the only way I can save Aerona’s stubborn Dragoneer.” Prince Aymon wrapped his arm around Trysten’s shoulder, and with her arm around his waist, they limped off again. An arrow passed right before them and lost itself in a low shrub at the edge of the scree.

  “I think you’ll have to hop,” Trysten said as she stepped out onto the expanse of stone left by an avalanche or landslide some years ago.

  Prince Aymon tried to walk on the stone with his stocking foot. He gasped and cried out, then lifted the foot up and proceeded to hop along as best he could, nearly losing his footing each time.

  “This won’t do,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “It’ll be enough,” Trysten said as she watched Elevera sail down and turn into the clearing. Each push of her wings sent the treetops dancing and swaying. Grasses poking up through the field of stone bent to the ground.