“What?”
“That rock,” Tyber said, nodding at the heather and stone that filled the space of the kingdom’s western end. “Don’t you recognize it?”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
Tyber chuckled and shook his head. He looked back to the others. Halton’s face was stonier than usual. The child before him, a boy of about five, fussed in the saddle, eager to be off and able to move again. Halton placed a hand on his shoulder, and the boy stilled.
Verana flashed her wings, dropped her hind quarters, and with a swish of her dark yellow tail, landed among the dusty green of the scrubby plants. Rius joined her, with Maybelle dropping down an instant later. The Shepherd rocked forward in the saddle, letting out a grunt, but said no more as he made a point of looking out to the sky.
The dragonjacks passed overhead. Their shadows flitted past Tyber before the dragons took the ground a score of yards ahead. Tyber’s jaw tightened. Their flying had gotten steadily worse after they left Iangan. Brath had sworn up and down it was the dragons and not them.
“Your turn to water the creep,” Ren said. He followed with a little shove at the small of Tyber’s back.
“I’m pretty sure I took care of that before we left. I think it’s your turn.”
“No way. It’s your turn.”
Tyber swept away the restraints and stepped down out of the saddle. As soon as he moved away, Ren swung his leg over Rius’ neck and shoulder, then slid off the side and landed in a crouch.
“Ander!” Ren called as he pointed to The Shepherd. “You water him before we left?”
Ander shook his head from Verana’s side. “We’re almost to Aerona. He can hold it, can’t you?”
He looked up to The Shepherd. The man continued to make a point of staring over Ander’s head.
“We’re almost there?” Brath called from beside Irvess. “Is that what I heard?” He took one of the two young girls offered down by Shella.
Ander turned back to them and nodded. “I’m afraid this is where we part ways. Aerona is just over the horizon.”
Tyber looked at Halton. The man still sat in his saddle, the boy in front of him squirming to be let down.
Brath took the second girl and placed her on the ground. He pressed a hand to the small of his back and glanced up at Shella with a grimace.
Tyber stepped forward, toward Ander. Ren clutched him by the upper arm. Tyber looked back and Ren shook his head.
He’d approached Ander two days ago, when they set down to camp for the night. He’d pleaded with Ander to agree to look the other way, to let the riders find their way to Aerona after they were cut loose from their dragons. Tyber and Ren had promised that they’d forget the dragonjacks, never let on that they were recognized, as long as they promised to lay low and keep out of trouble.
Ander had disagreed and wouldn’t budge an inch. They had fought capably beside the hordesmen and helped capture The Shepherd, and Taffer had given his life, struck down by a lucky arrow from one of The Shepherd’s guards. For that, Ander was willing to cut them some slack in return, but he had insisted that actions had consequences. They were criminals. If they’d had the manpower available, Ander would see them arrested and tried. But since it wasn’t practical, they could walk away, but would remain wanted men. And they had to give up their dragons. Completely.
Samsen took the child from Halton’s saddle and set the boy loose. He was a fidgety one and had been a handful all the way across the kingdom, but now he stood still, a hand on Gurvi’s leg, another hand at his mouth, the tips of his fingers curled around the bottom of his lip as he stared wide-eyed at the adults.
Halton hung his head. His shoulders drooped.
“Halton,” Samsen said. His hand rested on the other man’s shin. “Come on, now.”
Halton sat upright. He looked ahead, then to the sky, his back straight and his shoulders set as if considering making a run for it. Just him and Gurvi, up into the sky. On and on, until they could no longer have the sky together.
It’s what Tyber would have thought.
He stepped back and touched Rius’ shoulder, resting his palm against her scales.
Samsen said something more. Suven approached slowly and stood several feet behind Samsen, staring up at Halton as well. She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
Finally, Halton’s shoulders heaved, and then he pulled softly at the restraints until the leather cords fell away from his hips. He lifted his leg over his dragon’s shoulder and neck, and as he spun to step down, he looked at Tyber, his face unreadable. And then he dipped behind the dragon’s shoulder.
Gurvi looked down at him. She lowered her head until Halton reached up and took her violet jaw. He guided her face down to his own, and what he said to his mount went unheard and unseen except for maybe by Samsen, who worked at the saddle straps in silence.
“I wish there was more that we could do,” Tyber said, his voice hardly louder than the whisper of the leather straps and the jingle of the buckles.
“Man,” Ren said, shaking his head, “we’ve already done more than they deserve. You know what the penalty is for stealing one of the King’s dragons.”
Tyber looked up at Rius. She watched the activity around Gurvi.
If he had to. He told himself that. If he had to, he could give her up. Walk away. If it meant saving her life. If it meant even a chance at saving her life.
Gurvi lowered herself to her elbows and belly. Halton’s brow was planted against the end of her muzzle. His fingers stroked her gently, slowly like the shifting shadows across the plains.
Tyber looked away.
Metal jangled, and Samsen let out a grunt as he lifted the saddle from Gurvi’s shoulders. He carried it away and dropped it with the others. The children stood nearby, silent and uncharacteristically still, watching Halton and Gurvi.
“Halton,” Brath said, his voice larger and firmer than usual, “it’s time.”
Tyber looked back as Halton’s hand wrapped around the curve of Gurvi’s muzzle as if he was preparing to hold on and not let go. And then like a drowning man releasing the log he’d been clinging to, he released his dragon. He stepped back and turned to Ander.
“Go,” he said to the dragoneer. “Damn you, go.”
Ander looked at Tyber and Ren and motioned for them to go.
Ren climbed into the saddle. Tyber followed and sat before him. They lashed themselves down.
“I promise you,” Ander said to Brath as he tied his restraints. “On my word and honor, these dragons will receive the best care the kingdom has to offer.”
Halton lifted his chin, stood as straight and tall as possible and looked as if the next breeze would do him in.
Brath nodded. “I know they will.”
Ander motioned to the sky. “Up!” he called, and Verana reared back, then leapt into the sky. Maybelle followed a couple seconds later, and then Rius lifted behind her.
They flew over the dragonjacks. The dragons watched Verana go, but they made no show of joining their alpha. They remained on the ground, on all fours, their wings folded back behind themselves.
“Ander!” Tyber shouted, but Ander was already staring over his shoulder. He signaled for them to hold their course, and as the dragons beat their wings and drew them closer to Aerona, the rest of the horde remained on the ground, unmoved by the draw of their alpha.
Finally, Ander ordered them to reverse course, and then he ordered them to ground again once they reached the dragonjacks and their dragons.
As Verana, Rius, and Maybelle landed and tucked their wings behind them, Brath approached the dragoneer, his hands held out away from his side as he shook his head. “We have done nothing to keep them here. I swear to you.”
He looked back at the dragons as if some new-to-him dragons had taken the place of the others.
Ander hung his head and shook it.
“Ander!” Tyber called.
The dragoneer looked back, his face was bleary as if he ha
dn’t slept at all during the return trip and his exhaustion had caught up to him at that moment.
“We should go get the wing master,” Ren called over Tyber’s shoulder. “Bring her out here to deal with this.”
“They respond to their riders,” Tyber called. “They have to be ridden back to Aerona. They won’t follow Verana. They’re too sick.”
Ander looked back to Brath and then the others.
“Please,” Tyber called. “For the sake of the dragons, at least.”
Ander nodded at Brath. “All right.” He sat up in the saddle. “All right! Listen up. It seems that we need your help once again. If you ride your dragons back to Aerona, then…”
Brath began to shake his head. Halton’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. He looked ready to race forward, climb Verana, and yank the next words from Ander.
“If you ride your dragons back to Aerona, then I will insist that your service to the King and his dragons be considered. That at great personal risk, you have not only helped us apprehend The Shepherd, but you have brought the King’s dragons back to the fold in order to save them. I will tell him that I have promised each of you amnesty in return for your cooperation.”
Halton fell to his knees.
“And in exchange, you promise to remain out of trouble. If you break that promise, then the full weight of your past crimes will be remembered at that time. Is that a deal?”
“Yes!” Halton cried. He leapt up and turned to Gurvi, trying to wrap his arms around her shoulders.
“Can you do that?” Brath asked. “Can you assure us that the King will go for it?”
Ander took a deep breath, then nodded. “Our King is a man of honor. He will understand a hordesman’s oath. I am promising you on my honor that I am offering these conditions with the full expectation that the King will honor them as well.”
Wide grins spread across the dragonjacks as they turned to their mounts.
“Are you smiling?” Ren asked over Tyber’s shoulder. “Please tell me you’re not grinning like an idiot.”
“What?” Tyber asked, looking back at Ren.
“Stop that smiling, man. A fly is going to pass through that gap in your teeth and choke you.”
“Shut up,” Tyber said, turning back to the dragonjacks as they rushed for their saddles.
Chapter 29
A bell began to toll as they approached Aerona. As Verana’s horde descended into the weyr yard, Trysten advanced with a whole horde of hordesmen behind her. They all wore swords at their hips, even Trysten. Bows were slung over their shoulders. Arrows bristled from quivers on their backs. They were armed for an incursion.
The second Verana landed, Ander called out, “Take that man into custody.” He pointed back to Maybelle.
“And these others are under my protection.” He waved at the dragonjacks, their somber faces, the wide-eyed and stunned stares of the children. Suven clutched Samsen’s shoulder and appeared to be quite frightened.
“Is this The Shepherd?” Trysten asked as she and her hordesmen advanced on Maybelle.
“It is,” Ander said as he untied his restraints.
The hordesmen guided Maybelle onto her belly, then pulled at The Shepherd’s restraints.
“And these others?” Trysten asked, looking at the dragonjacks.
“They helped us capture The Shepherd,” Ander said. “I promised them protection in exchange.”
“Trysten,” Tyber called.
She turned to him. A smile started on her face as she looked from him to Rius.
“The dragons,” Tyber said, gesturing back at the others. “They’re sick. They need your help.”
She turned to the dragons, and a startled expression struck her, as if she hadn’t noticed them until Tyber had pointed them out. Concern clouded her face. She approached Gurvi slowly.
“She has lesions, ma’am,” Halton said, pointing to Gurvi’s foot.
Trysten crouched and examined the boil coming to a head on Gurvi’s leg. She looked up to the dragon, then extended her hand to Gurvi as she stood.
Gurvi ignored her, looking about as if taking in the sights and sounds and smells of Aerona.
“In exchange for their help, I promised them you would look into it, that you would take care of them and try to find a cure.”
Trysten started as if spooked, and she looked quickly around at Tyber, her face still heavy with concern. She nodded slowly to him, then looked back to Gurvi, and then on to the others.
“I promise,” Trysten said. “I will do just that.”
As the hordesmen pulled The Shepherd off of Maybelle’s saddle, Ren shoved Tyber in the small of his back. “Get down, fathead. I got to go scrub my dragon now.”
As soon as Tyber got down, he began looking around for his family, but they were not there. At least he would have a chance to clean up some before greeting them.
He took up Rius’ rein and fell in behind Ren and Maybelle, guiding Rius back to the weyr. They passed Trysten and a few hordesmen as she listened to Halton, Brath, and Myler tell of their dragons’ woes.
As Tyber led Rius into the weyr and her stall, Ander cried out, “Listico!” He left Verana to the care of a weyrboy as he trotted down the aisle and vaulted over a half-wall to land before Listico. She shoved her head into his open arms and chest and drove him back against the wall with a thud as he laughed and rubbed at the bright red scales along her neck and the back of her head.
Rius ambled into her assigned stall and turned around as neat and prim as if they were still at the academy. As he crouched and began to clumsily undo the buckles of the saddle, mindful of his injured hand, a woman called his name.
It was Theola.
He looked around Rius as the children raced down the aisle.
He smiled. His jaw grew tight as he tried to hide his missing tooth, and then Jack drew the stall latch aside and pulled the gate open. The children ran inside and threw themselves at Tyber, dragging him to his knees in order to hug him tighter.
“What happened to you?” Jack asked as he started to close the gate behind him. Theola grabbed it and pulled it out of his grip to let herself in.
“Are you back to stay?” Nos asked as she pulled her face from his shoulder. “Are you going to stay with us now?”
Tyber cupped the back of her head with his hand and brought her face forward again, nestling it against his shoulder, pulling all of his little siblings as close as he could. He shook his head and clenched his eyes.
No. He was not.
After promising his family he’d share dinner with him, Theola herded the children away. Tyber finished with Rius. Together, with Ander and Ren, they walked to the King’s cottage to meet with Trysten and Clemens, the head dragon healer. The royal healer was there also, a man named Royston who looked an unsettling bit like the headmaster of the academy.
As the royal healer cleaned the wound on Tyber’s hand, then added a salve and a fresh bandage, expertly tied, Ander told King Aymon and Prince Winsom of their adventures, finishing with how he made a deal with the dragonjacks in order to get their dragons the last few miles to Aerona.
King Aymon had listened to the whole story with his elbows on the arms of his chair and his fingers laced together before his face, the tip of his nose hovering just over and behind his knuckles. He nodded, then gripped the arms of his chair and shifted his weight. A slight grimace passed over his face.
“Most interesting,” he said, then turned his attention to Trysten. “And you’ve looked at these dragons?”
“Your Highness,” Tyber said, then pushed himself to his feet.
The King, along with everyone else in the room, looked at Tyber.
“Please,” Tyber said, folding his hands before himself. “Please. Honor Ander’s request. Grant them amnesty.”
King Aymon cocked an eyebrow. “Why is this important to you? After all, as I understand it, you and Ren lost a close friend to a dragonjack attack.”
Tyber averted his gaze to the wool lap bl
anket that covered the King’s legs. It was such a simple looking thing, like any knitter in the village could have made it with the wool of common sheep. Nothing as fine as the royal tapestry he had expected to see.
“It wasn’t them,” Tyber said with a shake of his head. “They weren’t the ones who killed Fang.”
He looked back up to the King’s gaze.
“It could have been them,” King Aymon said. “And the truth of the matter is that they probably have killed the close friends of many people. I shudder to think what would have happened to that goatherd whose herd you slaughtered. If he had tried to stop you...”
“But that didn’t happen,” Tyber said. “We made a promise.”
King Aymon regarded him another second, then looked to Ander.
Ander nodded. “They have paid a steep price,” he said.
King Aymon sat back. He gripped the arm of his chair, and his knuckles blanched momentarily. “However, they have not paid the price set out by the laws of Cadwaller.”
Tyber stared at the King’s hand. It looked pale and thin, yet splotchy and thick with callouses all at the same time. And there should have been rings. Gold rings with jewels that would have sold for enough in a market to feed his family for a year. But the King’s hands were naked except for the old callouses.
Maybe the dragonjacks, or Halton at least, had paid a price even worse than the death sentence called for by the King’s ancestors. Death at least offered a lasting peace. Now, the dragonjacks would spend the rest of their days with their former crimes hanging over their heads, ready to be used against them should they step out of line. And they were hunted men. On the first night of their return, The Shepherd vowed that each of them would die, and their deaths would not be swift or merciful. That men more powerful than him would see to it.
And they had to spend the rest of their lives without their dragons.
“Please, Your Highness,” Tyber said. “We made them a promise so they would bring your dragons back.”
King Aymon nodded. He looked at Ander. “Do not make a habit of making such promises in my name. This time, I will honor your word just as you laid it out to them. Their crimes will be overlooked for now, as long as they remain cooperative and lawful.”
Dragonjacks: Book 1 - The Shepherd: A Dragons of Cadwaller Novel Page 22