by Julie Wetzel
The tone of Kyle’s voice dropped as he went on. “It’s also reported that this dragon has started stealing maidens.”
Anger flared in Patrick’s heart. “My Lord!” There was nothing else he could say. No words could carry the horror and outrage Patrick felt at this statement. Such a dragon had inspired the persecution of known dragon families long ago. Hundreds of dragons had fled for their lives as mobs burned their homes and killed any they caught. Patrick’s family had been one of the first to be captured. He had been spirited away by an old woman whom his father had once saved, but his parents had not been so lucky.
Kyle turned in his chair to face Patrick fully. “We must stop him, Patrick. I want you to take two squadrons to Dunham Castle. Secure the village, find this beast, and bring me his head.”
Patrick’s mouth fell open. This was a mission for a senior dragon, not one just out of training. “My Prince,” he protested, “surely you want someone more experienced for this task.”
A smile turned the corners of Kyle’s mouth. “I can think of no one better. Besides, as my brother, you should be more than ready for this.”
“Everyone knows that’s a farce,” Patrick scoffed. “It’s well known that I’m an orphan, and a red dragon to boot.”
Kyle gave him a disappointed look. “You were raised by our Queen Mother and carry the name Mylan. You may not be her flesh and blood, but you are her son and my brother. And I dare anyone to say otherwise in her presence.” He tapped his finger on the table, emphasizing his point.
Patrick smiled at Kyle’s protective streak. He had always been there to stand up for Patrick in times of trouble.
“You have trained for this, and there is no one more deserving of this opportunity.”
It was true. Patrick had trained harder than the other members of Eternity. He believed in the cause and truly wanted to protect dragons from the possibilities of another purge. “But, why would anyone want to go into battle under me? I’ve never led troops outside of practice.” So many of the other Elites had real-world experiences that Patrick did not.
“Ah,” Kyle nodded, seeing Patrick’s point, “but there are two sides to this coin.”
This made Patrick raise an eyebrow.
“Once the dragon is destroyed, the village of Dunham will need a new lord. You may not know much about battle, but you do have knowledge of running a keep. And if this area is as ravaged as I fear, they will need a man with your experience.”
Enlightenment crossed Patrick’s face. “And the people of the village would be more likely to accept a leader who vanquished a dragon than a man appointed by the king.”
Kyle nodded. “Better a warrior than a courtesan.”
“So who will lead the assault on the dragon?” Patrick asked. Surely, Kyle had picked out someone better than he.
That impish smile crept back across Kyle’s face. “You will. But, I’m sure Daniel will be happy to help with planning.”
A relieved sigh slipped from Patrick. Daniel was well versed in the ways of war. He would be a great asset on this mission. “Very well, My Prince,” Patrick said, accepting his assignment. “I shall not fail you in this.”
“I know you won’t, brother.” Kyle reached out and squeezed Patrick’s arm reassuringly. “Good luck.”
***
“What a dreadful mess.” Daniel sighed as they rode up on what was left of Dunham Castle.
A quick glance had Patrick praying the place was livable. One wall of the battlement was crushed, and the stones of the keep were scorched black. Hopefully, the walls were thick, and the timbers inside hadn’t been caught by the dragon’s fire. “At least it still stands,” he pointed out. That was always a good sign.
Daniel let out a deep sigh and nodded. “For now.”
That was the truth if Patrick had ever heard it. They were going to need to call on the king’s masons to check the stability of the structure. It would not do to move into a castle that could fall on your head at any moment.
Patrick clenched his jaw as they rode unchallenged through the open gates. The place looked deserted. That was a bad sign. The lord of the castle may be dead, but surly there should have been someone tending the keep. Looking over the bailey, he understood why there was no one here.
“Now that is a mess.” Patrick sighed. Stone from the wall littered the grounds, and all the outbuildings were in cinders. Several charred bodies lay scattered around. At least they had died quickly. “Spread out and look for survivors,” he called to the men riding in behind him. “Defend if you must, but remember, we are here to help, not conquer. Bring anyone you find to the main hall.”
An agreeing murmur sounded from the men as they dismounted to search.
Patrick slid from his horse and handed the reins to one of his men. “Let’s get this over with.” He and Daniel loosened their swords as they mounted the steps to the main keep. The door was shut but swung open when they pushed on it.
“Hello?” Patrick called into the darkness inside. The only answer was the flutter of feathers as his voice echoed eerily around the empty chamber. Everything looked to be intact, but the main hearth was cold—something rarely seen in a castle, even in the summer months.
“I don’t think anyone’s home.” Daniel pushed the second door wide to let the afternoon light in. It cut through some of the darkness but left a lot of the room in shadow.
“Let’s see what we can find,” Patrick said. They were going to need torches to explore the darkness. Fishing for the flint in his pouch, he struck it on the steel of the fire cauldron by the door. The sparks should have caught on oiled tinder, but they died in cold ash. So much for the easy way.
Daniel chuckled as he scraped some of the dried thresh from the floor and tossed it into the metal bowl. “Try it now.”
Patrick shook his head and struck the flint, again dropping sparks. This time, fire caught in the kindling. Looking around, the two men found wood and fed the flames until they glowed brightly.
“Stay where you are.”
The men froze at the sound of a young voice. Slowly, they turned to face a boy, maybe eight or ten, holding a sword that was much too large for him.
“Good day.” Patrick raised his hand showing he meant no threat. “I’ve come to speak with the lord of the castle.”
“He’s dead,” the boy barked. “Now go away.”
“Then who is the master here?”
The boy brandished his sword in threat. “I am. Now leave.”
Patrick shot Daniel an intrigued look.
The corners of the other man’s mouth turned up slightly in amusement.
“Who’s there, Christian?” The voice of a woman sounded from the doorway behind the lad. A light was steadily growing, pushing back the gloom.
“No one, Nana. Go back to the kitchen,” the boy called over his shoulder.
“Of course there is someone.” A woman stepped through the opening. “I may be old, but I can still hear.” The woman was old, but she was not yet twisted with age. Her white hair glittered brightly in the light from her candle. She lifted it high, so the light would shine across the great hall.
“Just bandits.” The boy raised his sword again. Its weight was too great, and the tip kept sinking to the floor.
A quick cuff to the side of the boy’s head made his sword thunk to the ground. “Christian Zyler! Your mother raised you better than this,” she scolded as the boy raised a hand to the aching side of his head. “How dare you call these fine young men bandits.”
Patrick raised an amused eyebrow. Standing taller than most of their men, with a shock of copper red hair, he supposed he must be striking to look at. He glanced over at Daniel, with his brown hair and body toned from hours of hard work. Yes, they did make a fine pair, although they were well worn from days of travel.
“Please forgive my grandson.” The woman turned her attention back to the two men. “We’ve had nothing but problems since the dragon came.”
“Understandable.�
�� Patrick stepped towards them with his hands held wide.
The boy raised his sword, making the old woman cuff him again.
It was hard to keep the amusement off his face, but Patrick managed the feat. It wouldn’t do to provoke the lad by laughing. “My name is Patrick Mylan. I’ve been sent by the king to see about this dragon problem.”
The old woman nodded. “Oh, praise the Lord.” She sighed and lowered her candle. “I thought we were doomed to die by that beast.”
Lowering his hands, he came closer to the woman. “Where is everyone?” Patrick looked around the great hall as if people would pop out of the shadows.
“Dead or gone.” The woman turned back towards the opening in the wall. “Christian and I are all that are left.”
Patrick shot Daniel a concerned look and followed the woman and her grandson into the hallway. “What happened?”
The sigh the woman let out was depressing. She led the way to the kitchen, where a fire burned brightly in the hearth and the smell of cooking food made Patrick’s stomach grumble. “After the dragon started ravaging the outer farms, the town’s men called on Lord Dunham to protect them. He thought he could handle it.”
She settled her candle into a sconce on the wall and went to a chair near the fire. “He called up the men of the village, supplied them with weapons, and was teaching them to fight when the dragon arrived. The first attack went well. They drove the creature off, but it was soon back. It crushed the wall and killed the lord and half of the men before leaving.” Horror passed behind the woman’s eyes as she spoke.
Her grandson settled on the floor next to her, trying to give her some comfort.
She smiled down at the boy and rubbed his golden curls. “In a fit of rage and grief, the lord’s son took what men remained to hunt the creature in the hills. Only the dragon returned to scorch the castle. The lady of the castle and several of the hands died in the fires that night. Then, the dragon snatched up one of the scullery maids and left.”
“But where are the rest of the servants?” Patrick looked around. Two pallets were laid out along the walls of the kitchen. The old woman and lad must be living in this room, terrified to leave.
“Gone.” The woman sighed. “Every third day, the dragon returned to ravage the castle. He only left when a maiden was sent out to appease his wrath.” Tears hung in her eyes. “After the third maiden was taken, most of the staff packed up what they could carry and left. When the dragon came back again, it killed the few that remained and turned its attention to the town, only stopping when it claimed another maiden.”
“How did you and the young man escape?” Daniel inquired.
Shame etched the old woman’s face. “We were out picking herbs for my hands.” She held out her gnarled hands. “They hurt when it rains.”
Daniel nodded.
“When we came back, the castle was empty and the dragon had already laid waste to the town. We had nowhere else to go.”
The way she said those words made Patrick’s heart ache.
“Fear not.” Patrick pressed a fist over his heart and bowed to her. “We have come and will end this dragon.”
The look the old woman gave him was skeptical. “You have two days until the dragon returns for his next maiden.”
The woman’s words hung heavily in Patrick’s heart. “Then we will get on it straight away.” He turned to Daniel. “Call the men together and ask for volunteers. Pick ten and place them at guard on the walls. I don’t want to be caught unaware if this dragon returns early.”
Daniel nodded. “And the rest?”
“Divide them up. Send half to clean out the castle and relight the fires and the rest to clear the bailey.”
Daniel left to carry out Patrick’s instructions.
Patrick turned back to the old woman. “Forgive me, My Lady. I do not wish to invade, but I must claim this castle in the name of the king. I assure you that you and your grandson are safe and welcome to stay, but I need a place to house my men.”
“As you wish, My Lord.” The old woman bowed her head to Patrick. “No one will protest your claim as long as you slay the dragon.”
“And that is what I intend to do.” Patrick turned to head back out to his men. There was much work to be done before the dragon returned, and it would all have to be done in human form.
“Daniel!” Patrick yelled as he reached the opening to the main hall.
Daniel stopped in the doorway to wait.
“I want two men to scout—Douglas and Mathew. Their lesser forms are the smallest. Send them to the tower in the back to shift and fly out. I want a full report on the area around the town. I want to know where this dragon is.”
Daniel nodded again.
“But remind them to stay out of sight. This area is already frantic about one dragon. The last thing we need is them worried about more.”
“A wise decision,” Daniel agreed. “And where will you be?”
“I will be heading to the town to secure supplies.” Patrick looked in the direction of the village. “We are going to need tithing to support this place.”
Shock rooted Daniel to the floor. “We haven’t even settled in yet.”
“Yes, and the sooner the village understands we’re here to protect them, the sooner we’ll get the supplies we need.” Patrick started down the steps towards his horse. “Oh,” he paused and turned back to Daniel, “and tell the men they will have to move the rubble by hand. There are humans here, and I want no dragons seen.” The men were not going to like that, but it was to be expected.
***
The village was nearly as bad as Dunham Castle. More than half of the small, stone-and-thatch buildings were damaged or burned. People watched Patrick as he rode into the main square—mostly women and children. He almost felt bad about asking the town to support his troops, but they were there to help these people.
“My name is Patrick Mylan.” His voice echoed around the village square. “I wish to speak with the head of the village.”
A murmur circled the townspeople.
“He’s dead.”
Patrick turned in his saddle to face the young woman answering him. She was beautiful. Standing slightly taller than the other girls, her long, dark hair flowed around her heart-shaped face.
Hitching her chin up in defiance, she went on. “He died when Lord Dunham provoked the dragon.”
“So who now speaks for the town?” Patrick smiled at her. He liked a girl with spunk.
The woman opened her mouth to answer but was cut off before she could.
“I do.”
Patrick turned towards the voice calling from the other side of the square.
An elderly man stepped from the crowd.
“And your name, my good man?” Patrick asked.
“Eustace,” he answered.
Great—a man of many words. Patrick drew in a calming breath before going on. It was going to take every ounce of diplomacy his mother had taught him to make these people agree to his request. “I am Patrick Mylan,” he restated. “I have been sent by the king to see to your dragon.”
This sent another murmur through the gathering crowd.
“I claim Dunham Castle as my payment.”
Silence flowed across the crowd.
Patrick went on. “She is in need of much repair. I will require a tithing from the town.”
A roar of objection went up.
After a moment, the crowd quieted enough for Patrick to continue. “In return for your support, I will rid you of your dragon and offer you the protection of a lord.”
Outrage swept through the villagers.
“How do you expect us to pay a tithing? The dragon has razed all of our crops and killed most of our men.” The sweet voice of the woman cut through the din.
Patrick turned back to her. “I understand that times are hard, and I have coin enough to pay for the supplies I need for now. The tithing I ask is for repairs to the castle after I’ve vanquished the dragon.” He l
ooked around at the now-silent faces. “It’s no more than any lord would ask of his people.”
“We are not your people,” the woman snapped at him.
Oh yes, she was feisty, but so was he. Patrick smiled back at her. “Then I will leave you to your dragon, fair maiden.” Pulling on the reins of his horse, he turned back towards the castle.
“Wait.” Eustace held up his hand to stop Patrick from leaving. “Can you really slay this dragon?”
“My men and I are well versed in the ways of dragons.” Patrick bowed his head. “We can stop this beast.”
“And what happens when you fail?” the feisty woman yelled at his back.
Patrick turned in his saddle to look back at her. “Then you will be left with a fat dragon and be free of the tithing,” he sassed before turning his attention back to Eustace. “My men and I will be down in two days’ time, ready to defend you from this dragon. Please think upon my offer.”
He glanced back over his shoulder at the feisty woman. “In the meantime, you may want to think about which maiden the dragon would like to eat next.” Indignation turned the woman’s face red as he turned his horse back towards the castle and kicked it into a run.
***
Rage clenched Kathryn's throat as she watched that pompous ass ride away. Patrick Mylan. Of all the self-centered, arrogant men she had ever met, he took the cake. How dare he come down here and demand a tithing to fix up that blasted castle! The thing had been empty yesterday! He was just as bad as that fatheaded Dunham, with all his taxes. And the one time they had asked him for help, he riled up the dragon and got the men of the village killed.
Kathryn stewed as she crossed the village square to where Eustace stood contemplating the man riding out of sight. “You cannot be thinking about agreeing to this,” she said, starting in on the elder.
Eustace turned considering eyes to her. “And what would you have me do?” he asked. “If we just let things go, the dragon will kill us all. Besides, we did ask the king to send help. Did you expect it to come without a price?”