The way he spat out the last word, Soren had no problem understanding Ferin didn’t think anyone would be willing to offer him a job. He glanced at his worktable. He didn’t dare take anything with the Master Smith standing beside him. The blacksmith’s apprentices had stopped working and now watched as he left. He stood in the street for a moment wondering what to do. He couldn’t go home. Losing this latest job would only prove Lyla correct. He was a louse and needed to be away from their precious family. He couldn’t face her or Jerrick right now.
Without another thought, he ambled into the closest tavern. It was nearly deserted except for a few royal guards having a drink after the night shift. He leaned against the bar, pulling out a coin from his pocket. Setting it on the counter, he ordered an ale. The grizzled old man behind the bar grunted as he dipped a mug into the open barrel.
“Little early even for you.” He banged down the mug. The contents sloshed, almost spilling.
“Careful!” Soren lifted the mug and gulped the warm ale.
He heard the door behind him open and close.
The old man frowned. “Nina, I told you not to come here anymore.”
Soren swung around to face the door. Nina wore a low-cut dress that hugged her ample curves. Her blonde hair was pulled away from her face. Her half-hearted smile didn’t reach her blue eyes.
“I’m not working, Milton.” Her eyes settled on Soren. “I was on my way to the market and thought I saw you come in.”
He lifted his mug in greeting and took a sip. “Nina,” he said as his eyes traveled over her body. “You are looking as fine as ever.”
She crossed the room, her hips swaying seductively. She leaned a hip against the bar. “I thought you might be interested in having a little fun.” She ran her finger down his forearm. “And I’m bored.” She grabbed his hand, squeezing it. “For old time’s sake.”
His eyes traveled from her bosom to her soft lips. Even after all these years he could remember the first time he kissed them. He and Nina had been thirteen. It was his first kiss. Two years later, he would lose his virginity to her. Their hot, passionate relationship had died after two months but still on occasion they would take a tumble for old time’s sake as Nina called it.
She leaned forward, her hand slipping to his inner thigh. His body tightened. He never liked Nina’s chosen line of work. But at the moment, he didn’t care. He wanted to forget about facing Jerrick for a while, and he knew Nina could accomplish that. He grabbed her hand and led her out of the tavern.
Chapter Two
It was hours later when Soren began his trek back to his village. He had been correct. Nina took his mind off losing his job. An afternoon in her bed had been enjoyable, but he knew the evening would not prove to be as pleasant. He didn’t know if Jerrick would even offer to help him find another job. He doubted it. The blacksmith job had been the last string his brother could pull. Soren had already failed at working for the apothecary in spite of his knowledge of herbs. He lasted even less time as a store clerk. And there had been the job as a wagon driver. He shook his head at the memory. His father was correct. He couldn’t do anything right.
The rushing sound jerked Soren out of his thoughts. Something grabbed his shoulders. His stomach lurched. He struggled as he dangled above the ground. Glancing up, he saw the red dragon.
“Let me go!”
“Don’t shout. Give projecting your thoughts a try. Besides, I doubt you want me to let go from this height.”
Automatically, Soren’s eyes went to the ground way below him. How had they gotten this high so quickly, he wondered as his stomach tightened. He grabbed onto the dragon’s clawed foot.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Will you help? Will you deliver my message to the King?”
“No.”
The dragon sighed. “Very well. Then we must go to Sholar.”
“What?! You can’t expect me to dangle all the way to Sholar. That is a three-week journey.”
“You need to see this. It may change your mind. And it will help you to persuade the King the threat is real. We are going. I can continue to carry you this way, or you can fly on my back.”
“Find someone else.”
“Why would I do that? I have you.”
Soren sighed, realizing he was, for the moment, at the dragon’s mercy. He needed him to land. Then he could find a way to make the dragon realize he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t help him. Or he could just escape like last time, dashing off into the woods. He could stay at Jerrick’s house until the beast realized he could no longer reach him. But would Jerrick allow that, Soren wondered. If he even dared to tell him about the dragon, he doubted Jerrick would believe him. No dragon had been in these parts in over fifty years. No, the story would sound as ludicrous as it was. Heck, Soren wasn’t even sure Jerrick would let him back in the door after he found out about the blacksmith job. Maybe going with the dragon for a few weeks could be good. It would keep him away from his brother’s wrath.
“Choose,” Dex said. “Are you going to dangle or ride on my back?”
Soren imaged riding on the dragon’s back. It sounded exhilarating until he remembered the sharp turns the beast had made when he first rescued him. A vision of him falling off the dragon flashed before his eyes.
“I am no safer on your back,” Soren said, buying himself some time. If he was to be rid of the dragon, he needed him to land. Shouting was getting tiring. He might as well try talking to the dragon silently. “If I am to ride on your back, I need something to hold onto.”
“Like what?”
“A harness.”
“Where are you going to find one fit for a dragon?”
Soren didn’t have an answer. He looked down, noting they were almost back to his village. Even at this distance, he could see his father’s tannery. His father had long since stopped working the leather as his knuckles had grown too stiff. Now under his watchful eye, others did the work.
“I have an idea,” he said. “Put me down by the village.” When the dragon made no move to land, Soren sighed. “I need to get supplies.”
“Let you go? No. You’ll just run off again.”
Soren felt his chances of the dragon landing slipping away. “I won’t. Trust me.”
“You’ll agree to help?”
“Land. You don’t want to carry me all that way, and I certainly don’t want to dangle all the way to Sholar.”
Soren held his breath and let it out when the dragon tilted his wings and begun circling a clearing some distance from his village. His stomach tightened as the ground grew nearer. As before, the dragon released him a few feet from the ground. This time he was ready and only stumbled slightly. As the dragon landed in front of him, his eyes traveled to the beast’s chest, automatically sizing him up. It wouldn’t be too hard to make a harness, he thought as he made a mental list of the supplies he would need. What was he thinking? He wouldn’t be making a harness. Once in the village, he would hide out until the dragon found someone else to approach the King. Soren thought it a great idea, but if he could get the dragon to agree to let him go, he wouldn’t lose his freedom for the next few days.
“Find someone else. Someone more suited for your task.”
The dragon shook his mighty head. “No. I have a feeling. You are the one I need.”
“I am not,” Soren said as he paced. “There are so many better choices than me. I could find you someone else who could take your message to the King. Even my brother would be a better choice. He works in the palace.”
“See you are the right choice. You have the connections. Your brother can help you get the message to the King.”
“I am not sure about that.” Soren hung his head. “Jerrick can tell you I am the wrong one. Why can’t he help you? Or someone else?”
“I cannot explain it. I feel it. You are the one to help me.”
“What if I don’t want to? Why should I help just because you say so? Don’t I have a say in the mat
ter?”
The dragon huffed, his warm breath washing over Soren. “I have no time for this. Every hour the army grows closer. The King must be warned. You must ask him to align once more with the dragons. You can help us with this. I know it. Now hurry. Get your supplies. We leave for Sholar within the hour.”
Soren sighed. “I’ll be back.”
The dragon thumped his tail on the ground in front of Soren. “Don’t even think of not returning. I will hunt you down.”
Soren sighed. How had the dragon known? “I am coming back,” he muttered and walked around the dragon’s tail.
As he walked, he considered his options. The dragon couldn’t get him if he stayed inside. The more he thought about it he didn't believe Jerrick would let him stay in his house. Even if he didn’t throw him out, Jerrick would surely make him search for another job. Perhaps he could spend the next few days at the pub. Of course, he didn’t have the resources to drink away the days after his last binge. Or maybe he could slip back and hook up with Nina. She could keep him entertained for a few days until the dragon left, but he doubted Nina would agree to that. A tumble here and there was more her thing.
Twenty minutes later, he reached the village, entering it from the side closest to the tannery. He still hadn’t decided what he should do. Thinking back to the idea of getting out of town for a while, he considered going with the dragon. If after a few days, he changed his mind, he could still slip away and live off the land for some time before returning to his brother’s fury. And to do that, he would need the harness.
He stopped outside the wooden building that housed his father’s tannery. Glancing down the street, he saw no one. But to use the front door could draw notice that someone was here when his father was not. Plus, the front area housed the finer saddles, bridles, and carriage harnesses his father, or rather his assistant, had completed. What Soren needed would be found within the work room. He walked around the building.
He hesitated as he laid his hand on the side door. He had used it many times before, but it had been years. He never imagined he would be here again. The door creaked as he opened it. He paused in the doorway as his eyes adjusted to the dark workroom. The only light came from the high window over the work table. Stored under the table was the large curved block of wood used to shape the leather for saddles. Various bridles and wagon harnesses hung from pegs on the back wall. A table laden with tools was tucked in the far corner.
The room was smaller than he remembered. He had spent hours here as a child. But no happy memories flooded him, only the misery of working for someone who would rather his son had died then his precious daughter. Quickly, he pushed those thoughts away and crossed to the storage closet.
He grabbed two wagon harnesses meant for a team of horses. A knife, rivet setter and leather punch followed the stiff leather into a bag he grabbed from a shelf. His eyes scanned the room for anything else he would need. He grabbed a few other odds and ends and hurried from the room.
His father would be at the market at this time of day. Though he no longer worked with the leather, he would be there selling and taking orders for whatever apprentice or young boy he had hired to do his bidding. Soren felt a tremor of remorse for whoever would be blamed for the missing harnesses, but the feeling quickly passed.
Leaving the tannery, he headed down the back streets. His brother’s house lay on the other side of the village. Jerrick wouldn’t be home at this hour and if his luck held, he would be able to sneak into his room without running into Lyla. He doubted Jerrick or Lyla would be surprised when he didn’t come home that evening, especially when they heard about his job at the smithy.
The streets were relatively empty. Walking at a quick pace, it took him only fifteen minutes to reach Jerrick’s house. His luck held. The house was empty. He quickly climbed the stairs. His room was the first one to the left. It held just his bed, a thin dresser and a wooden chest, but what else did he need? He pulled a sack out from under the bed, hitting it against his thigh, which sent dust flying in all directions. He tossed several shirts, a pair of pants and a blanket into it. His tools, flint and a metal plate he had been working on followed as well as his travel pack that contained a medical kit and cooking supplies.
A bit of red on the floor caught his attention. Next to the pants he had discarded this morning lay the red dragon scale he had pulled from his boot yesterday. He picked it up, fingering it before slipping it into his pocket.
He left his room and walked to his brother’s room. The room was only slightly bigger than his own. Sunlight from the two windows shone on the bed with the pretty quilt Lyla had made last winter. Soren paid little attention to it as he crossed to the dresser. Opening the top drawer, Soren found a dagger, the twin to the one he had lost in a card game days ago. The dark leather-bound handle was as worn as his own. The daggers had been the last gift from their mother before she died. He hesitated for a moment. Jerrick would be furious, but he needed it more. He grabbed the dagger, tucking it into his belt before hurrying from the room and down the stairs.
He entered the kitchen. On the counter lay a loaf of bread Lyla had baked that morning. He wrapped it in a cloth before sticking it in his bag. Opening the cabinets, he grabbed a few other provisions and added them to his sack. It wasn’t much. He would have to fish or trap small animals as they traveled. He glanced around the room one last time before leaving. He wondered if his brother would be concerned when he didn’t come home. He shrugged. Once his brother heard he had been fired, he probably would be relieved not to have to deal with him.
As he walked down the street toward the outskirts of town, Soren’s mind once again played with the notion of not returning to Dex. The dragon couldn’t get him if he stayed in the village or better yet inside. But deep down he knew staying inside wasn’t an option. Jerrick was sure to kick him out for losing his job. And he lacked the funds to stay elsewhere.
“Hey, you! Stop!”
Soren turned. His eyes widened at the big burly man standing across the street on the corner. It was the man who had chased him the other day for sleeping with his wife. Soren took off, wondering how the man had found him. Surely the man had thought him dead. Perhaps it was a coincidence he thought as he raced down the street. The man wasn’t from this village, and he had no way of knowing Soren lived here. He bumped into a man, shouting an apology as he changed direction by ducking into an alley. Soren didn’t dare look back. His ears strained to hear if the man followed. When he reached the forest, he finally turned. The man barreled after him with more speed than Soren would have thought possible for a man that large.
Quickly, Soren turned, disappearing into the woods. He ignored the sting of the branches hitting his face as he angled himself away from where Dex waited. Though the dragon might offer him protection, Soren was sure he could easily lose the man. After all, he knew the forest well. He had grown up playing among these trees.
As he pushed his way through the brush, he peered over his shoulder. Suddenly, his foot slipped. He fell on his butt, sliding down the steep hill toward a stream. He scrambled to grab a small tree, but not in time. His legs splashed into the cold water. He stood, recognizing the area. He dashed upstream, remembering a favorite hiding place he and his brother had found.
And there at a bend in the stream was the place he recalled. It was a little hollowed out area in the hillside. Too little to be considered a cave, it was big enough for two small boys to play in. As he pulled away the overgrowth, Soren saw his memories of the size weren’t quite accurate. Or more likely it was now he was bigger than he was as a boy. After stowing his bags, there was barely enough room for him.
Cramped in his underground hideout, he waited, wondering how long before it would be safe to return to Dex. Now with the man searching for him, the thought of leaving the area for a while seemed more appealing. He could always ditch the dragon once they were out of the man’s search range. The more he thought about it, the more the idea appealed to him.
&nb
sp; The sound of something crashing through the forest had his heart pounding. He resisted the urge to move the bush concealing him. A small opening allowed him to see a bit of the stream in front of his hiding spot. He scanned the area but didn’t see anything. His hand moved slowly toward his dagger. The sound grew louder, closer. Soren froze.
A deer wandered toward the stream. Soren breathed a sigh of relief. The deer raised its head, glancing around. It held still as its ears twitched. Finally, it drank from the stream and moved away.
Soren waited for a little while longer before deciding it was safe. He crawled out from the hole and stood, stretching his cramped muscles. He brushed the dirt from his clothes before beginning his trek back to the dragon. He walked slowly, keeping an eye out for the burly man but saw no one else. He spied the red dragon and entered the clearing from behind the beast.
“I was beginning to think I would have to come after you.” Dex paused as he took in Soren's wet pants and soiled appearance. “What happened?”
“Never mind,” he said, dropping the two sacks.
Working as quickly as he could, Soren measured out the leather, glancing at the dragon’s chest and body to verify size. Using the knife from his father’s tannery, he cut it, but the knife’s edge wasn’t sharp, and the cuts were a little crude. He wished he had seen a leather cutter in the closet. He punched holes with the leather punch and connected the straps with rivets. The harness would go behind the dragon’s forelegs and across the chest for stability. It would be basic. Anything else would take too long. Plus a simple harness would suit his needs. At first, he thought he would only need something to hold onto but then decided it would be better to hook his belt to the harness too. By the time he was done, his fingers and arms ached.
He held the harness. “Now to see if it fits.” His eyes traveled over the dragon, wondering how to go about putting it on him. He didn’t think he could throw the leather over his back. “Can you…”
Blood Bond Page 2