Dragon Breeder 5
Page 1
Dragon Breeder 5
Dante King
Copyright © 2021 by Dante King
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
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Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
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Chapter 1
Snow blanketed Hrímdale in an unbroken and perfect layer. The town capital of the Vetruscan Kingdom was built on an enormous fjord surrounded by mountains. The mighty home of bearmancers gleamed in the flat glow of the sun, which sat like a glowing coin behind a thin layer of cloud.
The town was built almost entirely of wood felled from the forests blanketing the slopes of the impossibly steep hills that enclosed Hrímdale in a natural boundary. Those trees were as white as everything else now, looking like sugar-dusted pinecones in the distance.
A few buildings were crafted from stone, the more important structures; the undercover fish market, the blacksmiths, armorers, and other places that a township such as Hrímdale could not easily afford to have accidentally burned down.
All the buildings, both stone and timber, had steeply pitched roofs that allowed the heavy snows to slide off and form mounds around them. Now that winter had arrived in earnest, the Vetruscan Kingdom in its sure and frigid grip, there was a lot of snow. That might have been a pain in the ass if the villagers had needed to clear it, but with twelve-hundred-pound war-bears acting as snowplows, it wasn’t too big of a deal.
I stood out the front of the Berserker Hall, which passed for the chief municipal building in this Norse-like land, and sipped my spiced blood orange cider. The mulled drink was the perfect accompaniment to my thoughts.
A lot had changed in the weeks that had elapsed since the battle of Hrímdale, when Queen Frami had thrown down her usurper sister, Dagna, and literally ripped her head off. Winter descending out of the mountains like a soft, silent ghost had only been the start of things.
“Mind if I join you?” asked a soft, lilting voice reminiscent of the Baltic.
I turned to find Hana padding toward me, her feet crunching on the unbroken snow, her footsteps leaving a trail next to mine.
“What sort of maniac would mind having you join them?” I asked.
Hana smiled. She was clad in a warm fur coat as I was, and her arms were crossed over her chest. Her breath smoked in the cold air. Her eyes, which were large and the deep, dark color of good red wine, were alert. The habitual collection of silver rings around the edges of both her ears, as well as the studs she wore through each nostril, glittered in the wintery light.
She’d started to grow her hair out on top of her head, but she kept the sides shaved. I wasn’t sure how it was possible, but in only a few weeks, it had grown to almost shoulder length. I figured that, perhaps, it was a result of her having undergone the Transfusion Ceremony with her bonded bear, Bearne. Hana, along with five other bearmancers, had undergone the ceremony. At first, it had only been the three bearmancers, but after the victory over the rebels, no one objected to another five being transformed into much stronger versions of themselves. The rest of the Vetruscan bearmancers were practically lining up for their turn, but the Mystoceans had limited the number they would take through the ceremony. Something about not wanting to arm their (all-too-recent) allies with superpowered warriors that could one day pose a threat to the Empire.
“Where’s Rifa?” I asked, referring to the silver-furred male bear cub that I had sired with Hana.
“Back at your cabin. Renji is looking after both Rifa and Brenna,” Hana said casually.
I nodded. Brenna was Renji’s dragonling; the latest female edition to my growing family.
“She’s still planning on Brenna consuming her Etherstone today, after the meeting?” I asked.
Hana made a little noise in her throat which I took to be a yes.
“And we’re still no closer to figuring out how to get a bear to consume an Etherstone?” I asked.
It had been a conundrum with which all of us dragonmancers and bearmancers had been wrestling. None of us had managed to uncover a solution, not even Penelope the Knowledge Sprite, who was generally agreed to be so clever that sometimes, when she was overly enthused about something, it was hard to understand a single word that came out of her mouth.
Hana shook her head. She looked frustrated, and I could understand why. We had a spare Etherstone ready to give Rifa so that he could attain his adult form, but we just didn’t have the know-how on how to administer it. A dragon used its fire to melt and ingest the crystal, but a bear…
I was about to give Hana some good old empty words of comfort when she held up her hand and cocked her head back toward the Berserker Hall.
“They’re done?” I asked.
“I think so,” Hana replied.
The two of us turned to face the freshly repaired, massive, battle-scarred oak doors of the hall. The low rumble of voices that had been running like a river for the past however many hours had ceased. There was a scraping of heavy wooden furniture, the stomping of heavy booted feet, and then the doors were thrust open by a couple of Vetruscan guards.
Queen Frami, looking like the female version of Odin the Allfather, strode out into the flat light of day. A little smoke from the massive braziers that had been lighting and heating the Berserker Hall swirled out behind her, lending her a goddess-like—not to mention slightly hellish—aura. She was imposing; with matted gray dreadlocks, an eyepatch, and a huge sword hanging from her hip. Amid a warlike people, it was easy to see how she had risen to command such respect.
General Shiloh, the commander-in-chief, head honcho, top dog, and overall big-balls daddy-o of the armed forces of the Mystocean Empire, strode out of the Berserker Hall behind Queen Frami.
The General, with her big, square build, close-cropped hair, and predatory eyes, would have fitted in with the Vetruscans had she only been born in a different time and in a different place.
She had arrived only a few days ago, marking the start of a fresh epoch in Mystocean-Vetruscan relations. She was the first General from the Mystocean Empire—the first military officer of any rank— that had been cordially received by a Vetruscan monarch in living memory.
It was a sign, or so Queen Frami said, of the growing trust and confidence between the old enemy nations
.
The two hulking, commanding women, leading the procession of minor administrators, captains, and other men and women stumped out to where Hana and I were waiting for them.
“Noctis!” General Shiloh barked, with her usual sledgehammer through a door approach to conversation.
“General,” I said in return. She might have been a gruff old bruiser, but it was hard not to like General Shiloh.
“If it isn’t the father of the Empire’s freshest dragonling and its first bear cub!” the General said brusquely while Queen Frami and her contingent of advisors gathered around Hana and lowered their voices in discussion.
I bit back the retort that I wanted to utter at Brenna and Rifa being referred to like they were property of the Mystocean Empire. I knew the General didn’t mean it like that—well, not entirely like that.
“That’s right, General,” I said, only a little stiffly. “A male bear cub and another female dragonling.”
Despite the intense cold of the day, General Shiloh had her forearms bared. I noticed once again how they were covered in a short bear-like fur, the same chestnut color as her hair. Obviously, the hair kept her warm, for she showed not a single sign of shivering. Once more I wondered what race she might be, and whether there might not just be a little of the Ursidae about her. Her keen gray eyes glinted in the light of the silver sun that hung in the hazy sky.
The brawny woman, whose only concession to the cold was a musk ox skin cloak worn over her usual all-sable battle gear, clapped her callused hands together happily. Under the hem of the hairy cloak, I caught sight of the silver dragon claw on each of her meaty shoulders.
Her battle dress was not the sort of crisp, deep sable that a general might ordinarily be expected to wear. Rather, it was the worn and scuffed attire of a soldier who wore nothing else and rarely found the time or inclination to buff out the dings and scratches. Mud was spattered up the back of her breeches, and a roughly stitched cut that I recognized ran down one rolled sleeve. Her boots were travel-worn and caked with snow.
“You know, General,” I began, “Brenna is going to be entering adulthood shortly. If you and the Queen want to tag along to my cabin, you’ll get to see something that not many have seen in eons.”
“That’d be bloody splendid, Dragonmancer Noctis,” she said in her bass voice. “I’m sure that Queen Frami and I would be delighted.”
Dropping the stiff grunt to officer routine that we had going on, I leaned in and asked the General, “What do you think of the Queen, General? She’s a good sort, don’t you think?”
The General peered over at Queen Frami, who nodded at the two of us while she continued relating some quickfire instructions to her entourage.
“I think that she is a woman and leader after my own heart,” the General said carefully. “From what you told me in our debrief when I first arrived, she is not one to be treated lightly on the battlefield or at the negotiating table. After spending more than a week discussing, ironing out, and bargaining, I can say your appraisal of her was spot-on. She’s as sharp as a dragon’s tooth and just as deadly.”
I nodded. “Yeah, she is. But do you trust her?”
General Shiloh considered as she watched Queen Frami. “I trust her to act in the best interests of her country and her countrymen.”
“I feel the same, General,” I agreed. “She’s a woman of her word, but when fortunes shift and the reliability of our friends are tested, I think that we’ll find her still standing in our corner.”
“I hope you’re right, Dragonmancer Noctis,” the General growled out of the side of her mouth.
“Now dragonmancers, Hana here tells me that there is some exciting news concerning the latest dragonling?” Queen Frami said as she came to stand in front of General Shiloh and me, Hana trailing behind her. “Apparently, the dragonling is due to transmogrify into its adult state, is that right?”
I nodded. “Correct, Your Majesty.”
The Queen slapped one hand onto General Shiloh’s broad shoulder and another onto mine.
“Well then,” she said eagerly, “let’s go and have a fuckin’ gander then, eh? Lead on, Mike, lead on!”
Chapter 2
We emerged from the woods, and I was greeted by a lovely sight: Penelope, Knowledge Sprite and Librarian of the Grand Library of the Drako Academy. She stood outside the ornate and luxuriously appointed cabin with which the dragonmancers had been furnished.
The thin clouds had thickened a little, even in the short walk from the Berserker Hall to our guest accommodation, and the occasional fat flake of snow drifted down from the sky. It was very peaceful here, the sounds of Hrímdale muted by the thick blanket of snow that draped the fir trees surrounding us. I felt very calm, as if I was walking through a Christmas postcard or across the tin of box of gingerbread holiday biscuits.
Penelope was standing in front of a crackling fire. She was dressed in her routine all-blue robes, her blue hair loose down her back. At the crunching sound of our approaching footsteps, she turned and raised a hand.
“Hey there, Pen,” I said, beaming at her.
Penelope bobbed her head in greeting, but it seemed like the combined presence of General Shiloh and Queen Frami had momentarily robbed her of speech.
“Dragonmancer Glizbe, where are the rest of your comrades?” General Shiloh asked.
Penelope tried to answer, standing up a little straighter, coughed and cleared her throat.
“They’ve, uh, just gone inside, General,” she stammered in a strained voice. “They’ve just gone in to fetch Brenna and her Etherstone, so that we can, uh…”
General Shiloh waved her into silence.
“Take a breath and calm yourself, Penelope,” she said with her gruff kindness. “The Queen and I don’t mind waiting. The weather is fine after all.”
Queen Frami smiled at these words. “It is indeed. There are some peculiar folk that do not think much of the snow, but to me, and to all Vetruscans, it is just another kind of good weather.”
While we waited for Renji, Tamsin, Elenari, and Saya to come back out with the dragonling and the Etherstone, I ventured to ask a question that was probably a little above my paygrade.
“So where are we off to next, General?” I asked.
General Shiloh refrained from giving me a verbal beating there and then in front of the Queen. However, she did raise a bushy and quite threatening eyebrow.
“Here, in the open, is hardly the place to discuss such delicate matters, Dragonmancer Noctis,” she said in a flat voice.
Wishing, not for the first time, that we could all just get along and share information like people and not soldiers, I nodded my understanding.
“Just thought it might be beneficial for us to know where we might be headed next, General,” I replied amiably.
“All in good time,” General Shiloh said, turning her gaze to the crackling fire of pine logs that Penelope was still standing by.
Queen Frami looked from me to General Shiloh and grunted a laugh.
“It is a common belief that the Vetruscans are sticklers for secrecy and cloak and dagger tactics,” she said, “but I see now that we might not lead the field in that regard after all.”
General Shiloh put her hands behind her back. “I just think that it is more prudent for us to wait until we have seen the coming of age of this new dragon and move inside, before we start discussing the actions that we have agreed need to be implemented.”
“So, there is something afoot, then?” I asked enthusiastically.
“If you don’t stop with the questions, the only thing that is going to be afoot is my boot up your ass, Dragonmancer Noctis,” General Shiloh growled threateningly.
The Queen and I exchanged looks, but somehow, I managed to keep a straight face.
General Shiloh started muttering something, but the Queen held up her hands placatingly.
“I think we have already decided on the most crucial point,” Queen Frami said.
“What�
�s that, Your Majesty?” I asked, studiously ignoring the General’s smoldering eye.
“Whether there is enough trust between our two peoples to not only fight side by side but also fight together.”
“Excuse me, Your Majesty,” Penelope said in a querulously shy voice, “but I’m not sure I understand the difference.”
“I guess there’s all the difference in the world between fighting with the man at your side and fighting for him,” I said.
Queen Frami bowed her head in agreement, and even General Shiloh looked pleased that I had made that distinction.
The back door of the cabin opened My four fellow dragonmancers trooped outside, down the steps, and across the lawn toward us.
Saya led the way, as she did in most situations. The graceful and athletic elven beauty, Elenari, followed. The red-skinned hobgoblin, Tamsin came after her. In the rear, strode Renji, the blue-skinned Djinn.
Both Renji and Tamsin were clutching little creatures in their arms. Renji held the sinuous little form of the latest dragonling, Brenna. Tamsin was looking after Rifa, the bear cub. The two juvenile creatures were, though they were obviously of different species, the same silvery gray color.
“Ah, so here we are! The new arrivals!” General Shiloh boomed keenly as the four dragonmancers came to stand by the fireside.
“Yes, General,” Renji said in her cool, calm voice. “This is Brenna, and we are going to introduce her to her Etherstone so that she might start her journey into adulthood.”
“Excellent, excellent,” General Shiloh said. Her eyes were shining with genuine curiosity and excitement. “Let’s get on with it then, eh?”
“As you will,” Renji said.
Renji set the lithe little form of Brenna on the ground near the fire. Being only the size of a small cat and completely devoid of any obviously discernable scales, Brenna looked like she should have frozen to death in less time than it took to sneeze. Instead, the dragon fire that burned fiercely within the little body actually melted the snow around the dragonling, so that within only a few seconds, she was sitting in a pile of slush.