Fledgling (The Dragonrider Chronicles)

by Nicole Conway

  I wasn’t sure if I should be talking to him or not. I didn’t get the feeling he was going to hurt me, not like I had from the boys who’d beat me up the day before. He looked at me like I was an interesting insect he wanted to mess with, not squash under his heel. Even so, I wasn’t sure who I could trust.

  “We’re both new kids, then.” I tried to sound confident, like I wasn’t afraid of him.

  It made him laugh again, and he stole another piece of bread off my plate. “Right, right. I guess so, huh?” He was chewing loudly, looking at me with a thoughtful expression for an uncomfortable minute before he spoke again. “So what happened to your face?”

  I blushed so hard the tips of my ears were burning. Whenever Ulric hit me, it tended to leave hand-shaped bruises on my skin. I bruised easily anyway, and he never held back just because I was a kid. Of course, I’d also cracked my head off the ladder pretty hard. I probably had a nice black eye to show for that, too. And then there was the whole mess with the other older boys. After all that, I probably did look like a walking corpse.

  “I fell.” I told him guardedly.

  He arched a brow at me like he wasn’t buying that for a second. “Into a giant foot, apparently. You’ve got a boot print on your face, you know.”

  My ears were on fire, and I couldn’t stand to look at him much less answer that. I sat with my shoulders hunched and tense, staring down into my lap while he kept picking at my plate. Finally, he stood up and left without saying another word. He sauntered out of the dining hall with a confident swagger in his step. I didn’t even know his name.

  Stuffing down a few more bites of food, I cleaned up my tray quickly and set out for the armory. The dragons were taking flight from the tops of the high outer wall, already grouping together in patterns as they soared overhead. I could glimpse their riders for a few seconds whenever they swooped past, and see that they were using hand signals to communicate to one another. It was unfathomable to think I’d ever be like that. Dragon or not, I couldn’t see myself as one of those powerful armored men. I couldn’t see myself as anything.

  A familiar thundering growl made me look back over my shoulder just in time to scramble out of the way as my dragon swooped in low to land. He cupped his leathery wings, and only missed crushing me by a few feet as he touched down. He let out a deep bellowing roar. Under the shining light of the morning sun, he was even more fierce and beautiful than he had been the night before. His blue scales gleamed, and his black horns shone like volcanic glass.

  “Try not to kill me before we even get started,” I grumbled, turning away to continue on toward the armories. I wasn’t feeling confident about this at all, anymore. I was beginning to think I’d made a huge mistake by agreeing to this.

  The dragon followed me, looming close and making those chattering, bird-like noises as we made our way toward the armory buildings. I was hoping I wouldn’t see my father, but I caught a glimpse of him as I searched the workshops for Sile. All the craftsmen were very busy taking orders or measuring riders for saddles and armor. My father was casting molds for saddles, which I’d never actually seen him do before. Thankfully, he didn’t look up when I walked past.

  Sile was talking to a blacksmith when I finally found him. They were haggling over the cost of vambraces, and I stood by quietly until my dragon finally made an impatient barking noise. That got their attention, and it made me smile a little.

  “Hurry up. Stand there,” the blacksmith grumbled in a raspy voice. I knew his type well, thanks to Mr. Crookin. Blacksmiths liked to get down to work, no nonsense, and get their money as quickly as possible so they could move on to their next order.

  Sile gave me a nod of encouragement, gesturing for me to come close enough for the blacksmith to start working. “Come on, we’ve got a lot to get done today.”

  The blacksmith measured me from head to foot, handling me roughly like someone feathering a chicken, and occasionally squeezing an old bruise hidden by my clothes that made me wince. Occasionally, he stopped and wrote down numbers, noting the length of my arms and legs, the circumference of my chest, and the span of my shoulders. It didn’t take him long to get all my measurements taken, and then he started handing me pieces of roughly-made test armor to determine how they felt for size.

  It took a few tries of different sizes of helmets to find one that didn’t fit me like I was just wearing an empty bucket over my head. It had a big number three painted on the front of it, and the blacksmith made a gruff noise of disapproval. “Been a long time since I made a three. You sure you’re big enough for this? War is a man’s game.”

  “No,” I answered truthfully.

  Sile sent me a scolding glare. “He’ll be fine. Size and strength are not all that make a good soldier.”

  Once I’d been fitted for armor, and the smith had been paid, we moved on to a workstation in the second building—the one where the tackmasters were making saddles. Sile, in all his wisdom, had decided not to hire my father to make mine. Judging by the last look my father had given me, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Ulric intentionally compromised my saddle on the off chance that it might kill me.

  My dragon followed us to the open-sided workspace, plopping down onto his haunches outside and beginning to preen his scales. The tackmaster was a man much older than my father, with snowy white hair, and knobby withered hands that were covered in protruding veins. He took one look at me, at my dragon, and his bushy brows shot up for a moment. But he didn’t say anything.

  “Are you ready for us yet?” Sile talked to the man like he’d already struck a bargain with him.

  The old tackmaster nodded. “Have the dragon lie down.”

  All eyes were suddenly on me, expecting me to get my dragon to perform like a trained show pony. I swallowed hard. I wasn’t sure just how much of what I said the dragon actually understood, or how smart he was. It was time to find out.

  As I walked up to his head, my dragon was watching me with large yellow eyes bright with what I hoped was intelligence. I raised a hand to him, showing him my palm, and then gesturing in a downward motion. “Lie down, will you?” I asked him nicely. It was strange to give something that huge, and that potentially deadly, orders.

  The dragon watched my gesture, and made a few soft clicking noises as he canted his head to one side. His ears perked and swiveled.

  “Down,” I repeated. “Lie down.”

  He was already sitting back on his haunches, and little by little, he started to lower himself until he was lying flat on his scaly belly. He watched me carefully the whole time, looking for indication that he was doing the right thing.

  “Yes, that’s right.” I couldn’t keep myself from grinning. Even if he didn’t understand me word for word, my dragon was smart. He could figure out what I wanted. “Good.”

  Sile was impressed again. He watched us with his arms folded, and I saw a glimmer of envy in his eyes when I turned back to face him. “You think of a name for him yet?”

  I glanced back at my dragon, who was still watching me intently as he lay still. Naming him hadn’t even crossed my mind yet. “No. How do other riders usually choose names?”

  “Well, these days young dragons are named after their sires, or mothers, whichever was the more impressive specimen.” Sile grabbed the back of my shirt while he talked, pulling me out of the blacksmith’s way as he began dragging one of the large molds toward my dragon.

  The old blacksmith worked slowly, but he was strong like my father, and he didn’t act like he wanted us to help him. He, like all tackmasters, had his own way of doing things. For these men, I knew making saddles was a sacred ritual. He wouldn’t want us to interfere.

  Standing back with Sile, we watched the old smith work at pressing the wax-filled mold against the space between my dragon’s neck and his wing arms, where the saddle would sit. The mold would become the base that the rest of the saddle would be built to fit onto, so that it was snug against the dragon’s body and didn’t slide around. It
also had to fit over the little horns growing down his spine.

  “You know, the other instructors had started calling him a maverick. For a wild-born dragon who refused all but a halfbreed rider, that name might suit him,” Sile muttered.

  “Maverick?” I wasn’t sure what that meant.

  Sile was smirking to himself while he studied my dragon with his dark eyes. “A rebel. That’s what it means. That’s what he is. A stubborn mongrel, albeit a smart one.”

  I liked the way that named sounded. It rang well, and when I looked at the blue-scaled dragon lying on his belly, yawning widely to show us his white teeth and black gums, it just seemed to fit him. I took up a stick and squatted down to scribble the letters into the dirt at my feet.

  M-A-V-R-I-K.

  “You didn’t spell it right.” Sile was grinning at me, and shaking his head.

  I looked up at him, then back down at the name. Spelling had never been my strong suit. My mother had taught me to read pretty well, but I’d never had much need for writing.

  “It’s fine, boy.” Sile squatted down next to me to get a closer look at the name I’d scribbled din the dirt. “Mavrik. I like it spelled that way. What do you think, dragonrider? Is that the name for him?”

  I couldn’t keep from smiling back at the older knight who had quickly become my closest friend. Well, besides Katty, anyway. A little glowing bit of warmth started to rise up in my chest, and it made me want to smile even wider. When I looked at my dragon, at Mavrik, I started to feel that sensation bloom out all over my body. It was like a rush of energy and hope.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  five

  It’d been a long day. After getting all my armor and my saddle ordered, my admission paperwork signed and submitted, and making sure Mavrik was settled in at the Roost, all I wanted to do was sleep. I didn’t even care where anymore.

  Sile left me standing outside the student dormitory with a stack of books and uniforms in my arms. “Your room is on the second floor,” he told me as he turned away. “Students have to share a room with one other person their first year. He’ll be your partner in training for the duration. It supposedly promotes comradery, though in your case, I’d advise you to keep a low profile. Room four.”

  My spirits fell. I was going to have a roommate. A partner. Sile had explained a lot about how the first year of training was going to work. There were nine students starting, including me. All were boys. Girls weren’t allowed to become dragonriders. So, odds were, I was going to end up in a room with someone that hated my guts. There was only one boy from my new class that had even been remotely nice to me—while he was stealing food off my plate. I knew chances were slim that he would end up being my roommate, but I would have happily roomed with a food thief than someone else who might want to beat me within an inch of my life.

  I drug my feet up the stairs to the second floor of the student dormitory. The hallways were narrow, with rows of doors on either side. I stopped outside door number four, staring up at the engraved lettering hanging on a placard in the very middle of it. It read:

  4

  Sn. Lt. Derrick

  The other doors had signs on them, too, and from what I could tell each one had the name of a Lieutenant on it. That must have been what Sile meant by being my “sponsor.” Even if I wasn’t sure what a sponsor was, I was glad that I’d at least be in some proximity to the knight who’d vouched for me.

  I had just reached out to touch the doorknob, when I heard a familiar voice snarl behind me, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  I recognized the older boy right away. It was the same one who’d wiped his boots on my face. He was glaring at me like he’d found a diseased rodent in his food, and immediately I froze up. He was bigger than me, and I knew I wouldn’t stand much of a chance if he came after me again. I could run, but I wouldn’t get far.

  “There’s no way!” He yelled like it was my fault. Apparently Sile was his sponsor, too. “I’ll cut my own ears off before I share a room with you!” He was practically screaming, and I started to worry about what he was going to do to me.

  He started to move in closer, backing me up against the door while he snapped angry words just inches from my nose. I couldn’t escape, and I couldn’t think of anything to say to defend myself. The more furious he got, the louder he became, and it made me wince as I tried to hide behind the stack of supplies in my arms.

  Some of the other new students were starting poke their heads out of their rooms down the hall, staring at us. I could sense their anticipation as they started to flock toward us. They were hoping for a fight. It would be a free-for-all, and I would definitely be on the losing end of it. Every single one of them was at least half a foot taller than I was, and much more muscular. I was a sheep surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves, ready to make a meal of me.

  “Hey,” another, strangely familiar voice spoke up from within the crowd. I watched the other students step aside, making way for the boy who’d stolen bites of my lunch earlier. He was coming straight for us with a canvas bag slung over his shoulder.

  “I’ll switch with you,” he said “I’ll room with the halfbreed.”

  My mouth fell open.

  “Well if it isn’t the local celebrity, Felix Farrow. Come to see how the other half lives?” The boy was still snarling in my direction with his eyes narrowed, bowing up defensively at the one who’d interrupted his fit of rage. “What does the son of a duke want with a halfbreed, anyway?”

  “The way I see it, that’s not really any of your business, is it?” Felix shot him a threatening look. “You want to switch or not? This offer’s going to last for about thirty more seconds.”

  It didn’t take that long for him to make up his mind. The boy who had used my face as a doormat agreed to switch rooms without any more yelling, and he sent me a mocking sneer over his shoulder as he walked away.

  The crowd started to disperse. Everyone went back into their rooms, unhappy that things hadn’t come to blows. I was left standing alone in the hallway with Felix Farrow, wondering what had just happened. How had I gotten out of that situation with all my limbs and teeth intact?

  Felix gave me a look from top to bottom like he was sizing me up, and then he just rolled his eyes. “You’ve got a knack for getting in trouble. Let’s hope that doesn’t apply to the battlefield, too.”

  I didn’t know what to say to him except, “Thank you.”

  He just shrugged and opened the dorm room door, holding it so I could go in first.

  “Is Sile going to be all right with this?” I wasn’t sure switching like this was allowed.

  He gave me a strange look. “You mean Lieutenant Derrick?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Will he be your sponsor now, too?”

  “First off, you can’t call him that anymore, kid.” Felix corrected me as he shut the door behind us. He wandered over to one of the two single beds set up on opposite sides of the room. He plopped his canvas bag there, claiming it as his own. “He’s Lieutenant Derrick to us. We’re not on a first name basis with our superior officers. Understand? That’ll get you smacked upside the head. Whatever relationship with him you had before, it ends the minute you put on your uniform. He’s your sponsor; he’s responsible for making sure you survive this training. That’s his job. Private training, individualized attention, and providing you with anything you need that your parents didn’t already give you.”

  “Oh, right.” I nodded again.

  Felix unbuttoned his bag and started taking out his own books and uniforms, putting them away into a small bedside table with a few drawers in it. “And to answer your question, yes. I’ll have to talk to him about it to make sure it’s all right, but I’m pretty sure they won’t care. In fact, I’m willing to bet Lieutenant Derrick will be glad that you’re not rooming with Lyon. I heard he was the one who bruised your face up.”

  I sank down to sit on my own bed, watching him unpack from across the room. I’d never had a bed like this befor
e. It was just a single-sized, hard mattress covered in a stiff white sheet and wool blanket, but it was still nicer than anything I’d ever had before.

  “Is that his name? Lyon?” I asked while I unfolded one of my uniform shirts to look at it. It was just a plain, dark blue tunic with a golden eagle stitched on the breast. It was made of a coarse, rugged fabric, and the sleeves were long enough to be tucked into my vambraces, whenever I got them.

  “Lyon Cromwell,” Felix confirmed. “Son of Viscount Cromwell, and a third generation rider in his family.”

  Hearing that made my spirits sink some. I hadn’t even had my first day of training yet, and I was already making powerful enemies. I looked up at Felix, who was still busy putting his things away. “Why did you do that?” I dared to ask. “Why did you agree to switch? No one else wants anything to do with me.”

  He stopped long enough to give me another strange look, arching one of his eyebrows. I knew he was a noble, too. I’d heard Lyon call him the son of a duke, and that was just a step below a prince. He definitely had that rich kid look about him. His dark blonde hair was cut feathery around his face, and his clothes were clean and expensive-looking. He even had a gold signet ring on his hand with his family crest on it.

  “You think I should be worried about my reputation?” He asked.

  “Well.” I was hesitant to answer that. “I think anyone else would be.”

  Felix gave a noisy sigh and came around to sit on the edge of his bed, too, staring at me while he sat across the room. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m sure my dad’s not going to like it, but he doesn’t like a lot of things I do. Besides, you’re interesting. A halfbreed paired with a wild-caught dragon? Maybe I’m just waiting to see what amazing, unexpected thing you do next.”

  I was able to smile at him some, glancing back down at the uniform tunic in my hands. “Like what? Surviving a year of dragonrider training at Blybrig Academy?”