The Royal Dragoneers (Dragoneers Saga)

by Mathias, M. R.

  “Aye,” Rikky nodded. “Can I go get my peg leg? I’ll be walking with it before long, I assure you.”

  “I have no doubt you will,” the commander nodded. “But I’ll send a man to get it. We need to get you loaded up.”

  A few hours later, the rain was still coming steadily down. The scattered forest lining the road outside the gates provided little or no cover from the nasty storm, but the traveling was relatively safe because the trolls and dragons were hunkered down out of the weather.

  Rikky felt terrible that he was getting to ride in a covered supply wagon. From underneath the dry canvas covering he could see some of the others struggling in the rain. They looked to be wet and miserable. The group was made up of three wagons, each carrying a driver and two other men. Each wagon had an equal share of the supplies, in case one of them got separated from the others. There were eight horsemen riding guard, and they appeared to be confident and capable men. Commander Charvin was one of them, looking every bit the part of a hardened veteran frontiersman. He wore the red shield of the Walguard proudly on his steel chest armor, and he carried a big, double-bladed battle axe. His men wore more functional chain mail armor and were armed with longbows, crossbows, and polished swords. The tunics they wore all bore the mark of the Walguard as well.

  The idea was to travel through the night until the next day broke, then camp in the daylight. That way, they could make the old keep, where the refugees were trapped, as the sun was coming up the following day. If the ill weather held out, they could probably get the task done with little incident, but Rikky could tell by the clouds that the rain would soon blow over. After that, who knew what would happen.

  The rain didn’t stop that night, but as they were making the first camp, the clouds parted and the most perfect of days began. It was a slightly steamy, early summer morning and the birds and wildlife were enjoying it almost as much as the men were.

  Rikky tried to sleep, but he couldn’t. The day was just that wonderful. He was sitting in his wheeled chair watching a pair of scarlet butterflies flutter about a smattering of tiny turquoise flowers, and reveling in the feel of the sun on his skin when the alarm was called. Someone had spotted a dragon in the sky, and now men were screaming about trolls coming in fast from the north.

  An archer that also served as the cook helped Rikky into his wagon and got him a crossbow, as well as a quarrel of bolts. Stones came flying in, and the sounds of chattering goblins could be heard. The wagon jerked forward, and Rikky was nearly tumbled out of the back over the wooden latch gate.

  He caught his balance and fired a bolt at a troll that was about to pull one of the Walguard from his horse. The man stabbed the troll in the collar with his sword and yanked the blade out in a gush of black blood. He gave Rikky a nod, but Rikky was busy fighting to reload his weapon and didn’t see him.

  After he got the crossbow reloaded, he grabbed his wooden leg and strapped it on. It was no easy task in the bouncing, swaying wagon, but he managed it. He wasn’t about to get stranded without it again. When he looked back out of the wagon, he saw a horse and man getting pulled down by a swarm of little, ash-colored goblins, as another man spurred his mount just out of their reach. Arrows were flying back at the attackers as the fleeing men and wagons pulled away. They seemed to be putting some distance between them, but then, a deep umber-colored dragon roared out just overhead, and blasted Rikky’s wagon with its flaming breath. Rikky waited until the wagon slowed a bit, then jumped headlong out from under the flaming canvas. He tumbled in a half-controlled roll, then hobbled upright and started screaming from the pain that shot up through his stump. He bore the sickening agony and started hobbling alongside a rider-less horse that had escaped the goblins with only minor wounds. The Walguard rider he had saved earlier turned his mount and reigned in beside Rikky, blocking the horse's escape. He loosed three arrows in rapid succession, keeping the pursuing goblins at bay, buying Rikky the time he needed to pull himself into the saddle. After that was a mad dash through the thickets, into a more densely canopied copse of forest. The one wagon that had broken away with Rikky and the Walguard rolled up into the trees, until it wedged itself stuck. Then the driver and the box man started coming after the two mounted men on foot. After a while the four of them settled in a cluster of tightly-rooted pine trees, and tried to gather their breath. It was then that Rikky felt something flare to life inside him, something powerful and inexplicable, like nothing else he had ever felt before in his life. The horse underneath him felt it too, and it shivered with fear. Somewhere away from them, the sound of men being savaged by goblins and trolls resounded.

  Behind Rikky, the Walguard sucked in a heavy breath. “There’s another dragon,” he whispered shakily. “It’s as fargin silver as a sword, and it’s right here.” The roar that blasted from behind them caused Rikky’s terrified horse to bolt. It carried him headfirst into a low-hanging limb. The blow knocked him out of the saddle, and almost knocked him unconscious. When he squinted through the haze of his bludgeoned vision he saw that the Walguard and the other two wagoneers had fled. The silver-scaled wyrm came crashing into the clump of pine trees and loomed its big head over him, baring a full set of slathering, arm-long fangs. Rikky was drenched in fear. He could do little more than clench shut his eyes and hope that death was swift.

  *** * ***

  Prince Richard was dying inside, and he knew it. The horrors that Gravelbone was forcing him to witness were beyond vile. He had just been forced to choose which of three men would get the swift death of the Goblin King’s blade, and which two would feed the demon’s personal little band of ever-hungry goblins.

  After he cleaved the head from the man Richard had chosen, Gravelbone kicked it into the ogre cage where Richard was still huddled. The demon troll laughed manically when one of the stupefied green beasts started playing with it. Gravelbone and the nightshade had gone off then, back out to find more innocent people to bring back and kill for the Crown Prince.

  What the ivory-horned bastard’s ultimate goal was, Prince Richard had no idea, but if it was to drive him into madness, it was working. He had lost all sense of humanity. He even found himself sometimes anticipating the deadly displays. The idea of seeing the innocent people of the frontier butchered or eaten alive sickened him, yet he couldn’t seem to be able to keep from looking forward to the foul events. The fact that he could recognize his own disgusting enjoyment for what it was made it all the worse. He was about to succumb. But then, one night, he had a dream, and everything started to change.

  He dreamt that he was flying with a young green dragon. It was Jenka’s green; the yearling called Jade. He wasn’t riding on a dragon’s back. He was inside a dragon’s consciousness. He caught a glimpse of his own bright-blue wing leather, and knew instantly that Royal was somehow still alive. Prince Richard was flying in spirit with his bond-mate. With this realization, pain struck him all along his long neck and behind his shoulder-blades where his wing joints were. It was a pain like nothing he had ever felt before, and the intensity of it threw him back into wakefulness just in time to hear Gravelbone and the nightshade returning again.

  The Goblin King didn’t have a human offering this time. It had two ogres. One of them was no bigger than a man, which meant that it was most likely still an adolescent. The other had heavy, hanging breasts, and was obviously the mother of the younger creature. The nightshade prodded them along with its fearsome-looking head, and by the way the two ogres were sobbing, Richard figured that the father had died trying to defend his family. The swath of shining, sticky blood that decorated the nightshade's chin and neck lent to that conclusion. Gravelbone immediately noticed the Crown Prince’s interest in the new arrivals and started mumbling to himself proudly in his half-gibberish way.

  “Wan Prins kom kiw dees wans,” the Goblin King said to Prince Richard as he eased over toward the ogre cage. “Wan Prins kom kut em up, yeah!”

  Richard swallowed hard. He had come to understand the Goblin King
’s deep voice and ramblings. “Want Prince to come kill these ones, want Prince to come cut them up,” was what Richard heard. Although they were just ogres, he wasn’t sure if he could do it, which was odd to him because he had already chosen the order of death for several of his fellow humans.

  Those people were going to die no matter who you chose, he told himself. These ogres are going to die whether it’s you who kills them, or the orcs and goblins who do it. Or are they?

  The empty hole in his spirit was now filling with hope for Royal, and a newfound resolve was beginning to form in his heart. He snorted and grinned crazily, and looked at Gravelbone with wild eyes, the same look he gave his opponents on the tilt yard just before a joust.

  “I’ll kill ‘em for you, you foul cretin,” he said, as he mimicked the action of shooting with a bow and arrow. “I’ll kill ‘em from right here.”

  Gravelbone laughed and barked out an order to one of the four orcs guarding the cage. “Jus wan aroo,” the Goblin King added. “Jus giv ‘em wan.”

  The orc chuckled nervously, its dark, greasy face full of contempt. It poked the longbow and a single arrow down at Richard through the bone bars of the ogre cage and then backed quickly away, in case Richard decided to shoot him with the shaft.

  Gravelbone thought this was funny and half threatened to feed the orc to the goblins if it didn’t grow some spine.

  “Wha wan?” the Goblin King asked excitedly. “Wha wah yoo gon kiw?”

  Richard tested the draw on the finely-crafted bow and looked across the cavern at the trembling pair of ogre. Behind them, and half blocking the tunnel that led up to the surface, the nightshade curled up to rest and digest a meal it had recently eaten.

  Prince Richard took careful aim at the mother ogre first. Then he shifted the direction of his aim over a fraction to the smaller creature. It had pleading, angry eyes, as if it would have willingly died fighting rather than be killed like this. When he was absolutely certain that the young ogre was looking back at him, he lowered his bow and pointed down the cavern the way they had come in.

  “Whas dis?” the Goblin King asked angrily.

  Before anything could stop him, Prince Richard brought the bow back up and aimed it at the mother ogre, but only until Gravelbone started chuckling victoriously. Richard loosed the arrow, but not at either of the green-skinned creatures. The arrow flew swiftly right past them and struck true, right into one of the nightshade's huge nostrils. When the hellborn wyrm rose up, roaring out its pain and anger, the Prince squeezed through the cage bars and charged the orc that had given him the bow. He threw the bow at it, and when it raised up its arms protectively, he sliced it with the big button he had sharpened. He cut across the open skin under the arm that the orc’s crude armor didn’t cover.

  The other three orcs tackled him in a matter of seconds, but the two ogres had taken off running out of the cavern, and the nightshade’s anguished thrashing was blocking any form of pursuit. A few of the hungry little goblins might have squeezed through, but if the two ogres couldn’t fight their way out, it was no longer Richard’s concern. He had done all he could for them, and now he had enough to worry about on his own. Gravelbone was charging over to clamp his palm on Richard's head and boil his marrow again.

  Richard had never been so afraid in his life. He would rather die than feel that terrible pain again. He didn’t have that option, and when the claw latched onto his forehead this time, the sensation was devastating.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  From a great distance across the sea, Zahrellion saw her dragon coming, and her heart leapt with joy because of it. Even in her elation, her mind started contemplating how she could get from the ship onto Crystal’s back. There was no way the dragon could land on the ship, not without destroying the sails and the masts. Crystal was just too big. Her attention was averted from that subject when she noticed that her dragon had a rider. When Jenka shook his uneven blond bangs out of his face and squinted at the ship, he reminded her of a hero from some ancient tale. She noticed instantly that he was wearing the wide-shouldered leather armor she had picked out for him back in Three Forks. He looked good in it, and he looked comfortable riding on the dragon’s shining back. As she worked to quell the warmth that was spreading inside her, she wondered why he hadn’t gone directly after Jade.

  Some of the men in the rigging saw the dragon too. They started calling down warnings to the others.

  Zah called out across the vessel as loud as she could, “If any man so much as thinks of firing an arrow or throwing a spear, I will blast them myself.” A crackling orb of energy, pulsing pink and yellow, formed between her hands. She held it as if it were a ball she was about to hurl. The audible sound of several men gulping at the same time resounded over the waves.

  “Stand down, men,” the Captain ordered from behind her. He had a long brass looking tube in his hand, and looked more than a little nervous. “There’s a man riding that wyrm, and the lass here is full o’magic. I think, between the three of them and that other skittish druid, they could sink us if they wanted to. Not much a few pointed sticks is gonna do but rile ‘em up more.”

  “Aye, Cap'n,” a man said.

  “Aye,” the others agreed.

  “Thank you,” Zah said. “I need to get on that dragon’s back, Captain,” she turned and smiled, and let the crackling orb extinguish in her hands. The terrified look on the man’s face was priceless. “Any suggestions?”

  He stammered and harrumphed. To his credit, the roll and sway of the ship had no effect on his stature when it caused Zah to have to take a few steps to catch her balance. “Cargo boom,” he said flatly. “We can swing you out and the beast, uh … the dragon, I mean, can get its neck right under, if its wings en’t too wide.”

  “Which one?” She indicated the masts and the confusing mess of spars and crossbeams that the sails were rigged to.

  “You're just gonna go, on a dragon? Just like that?” he asked incredulously.

  Behind the Captain, Frunien peeked up out of the companionway.

  “I am,” she insisted. “Now, please. The dragon has been flying for hours, and I’m sure that she would like to get herself over land so that she can rest her wings. The longer this takes, the more likely she will be to try and take rest on your ship, and I assure you, sir, she will not ask for permission to board.”

  “Linux will have my head,” Frunien mumbled.

  “Then come along,” Zah snapped. “Crystal can carry three as easily as she can carry two.”

  “Crystal is her name?” Frunien was now watching the frosty white dragon ease in close to the ship. He could see Jenka sitting proudly on her back, and it astounded him. “No, Zahrellion,” he shook his head in the negative. “You have a destiny, it seems. I’ll not get in the way of it.” With that, he turned and went back down into the belly of the ship.

  The captain called out orders, and a series of ropes and pulleys were utilized to make a long wooden beam, able to swing out over the side of the ship, up high. Zah tied a short length of rope around the waist of her gray robes for a belt and fastened her cloak tightly. She then ascended the rigging as if she were born a sailor. In a matter of minutes, she was poised precariously out over the water, straddling the round beam of wood like some adventurous child on a tree limb. Crystal came swooping in, and as the two of them were really starting to feel each other’s presence through their bond, Zah slipped upside down on the jib and extended her arms down. Crystal had to pull her wings in so that the left one didn’t crash into the ship's rigging. She was coming in very fast because of this. At the last second, Jenka reached up and clasped Zah’s dangling arms at the wrist and as Crystal came streaking past the ship, Zah let her legs go. She spun acrobatically into a straddled position behind Jenka on the dragon’s back. It would have been a perfect feat had Jenka’s arms not been nearly ripped from their sockets when Zah’s weight, and the momentum of Crystal’s flight, yanked them backwards.

  As Crystal flew ahe
ad of the ship and peeled away, winging north, the ship’s crew gave a hearty cheer, followed by a long, loud sigh of relief.

  *** * ***

  Jade was sleepy. He had used all his energy trying to heal Royal so that they could fly away from the blood-soaked area where they had fought the hulking fire dragon. The spells he had cast, and the short swift flight had worn the young green dragon to exhaustion. They didn’t make it far, but they had gotten away from the red dragon's gruesome carcass before the sun left the sky. They felt safe enough to land and rest in a small, starlit glade, surrounded by forest.

  Royal fell into a fitful slumber as soon as he landed, leaving Jade to struggle to stay awake and keep watch for them. It didn’t take long for something to come around. A pair of roaming trolls, on their way to investigate the coppery smelling carnage blowing on the wind, stepped out of the tree line and saw them. After hurling a couple of small rocks, they went loping away, most likely to get others.

  Jade didn’t wake Royal. The big blue needed rest and more healing magic. Jade’s mother had instilled in him several spells of the restorative sort, but they were complex beyond Jade’s reasoning; the young dragon wasn’t capable of casting them yet. Beyond that, he had just cast the powerful spell that destroyed the huge red and then healed Royal well enough to get him in the air and flying. It was rare for a dragon of his age and type to be using such powerful High Magic, but desperation had filled him full of might, and he mustered the stuff from way down deep. It hadn’t hurt that he had Jenka’s strength with him to draw upon. His amber-tinted lower lids were now threatening to slide up. The exhaustion was getting the better of him.

  For Jade, everything had a deep, urgent undertone. He had been on his way to save his bond-mate from the stone fortress he was trapped within. Jade needed Jenka, and Jenka desperately needed him. Thinking about these things kept him awake and alert enough to sense the presence of another dragon, as it cautiously approached them from above. Surprisingly, Jade could sense the aura of a pure-blooded dracus circling overhead. It was a welcome sensation.