EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2017 Jessie Pinkham
ISBN: 978-1-77339-430-5
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Karyn White
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WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To brave exiles of all kinds.
THE DRAGON KEEPER
Romance on the Go ®
Jessie Pinkham
Copyright © 2017
Chapter One
The first time Aldric met Lito he thought the man was a nuisance.
He’d been expecting his visit for two days, ever since he found out that there was a southerner in the city asking about dragons. It happened now and again that a southerner would take an interest in dragons and decide he must see them for himself. This would have been easier several generations ago, before the southern kingdoms had hunted their dragons to extinction. Ever since that time, when a southerner wanted to see a dragon he made himself a nuisance to dragon keepers in the north.
The southerner wasn’t immediately distinguishable from a local. Up close, Aldric noticed the other man had the darker eyes common throughout the south, an exotic and, if he was being honest, very appealing look.
“Excuse me,” began the southerner. “Do you know where I might find the dragon keeper? I’m told he’s in this general vicinity.”
When he spoke, it was obvious that he wasn’t local. His voice had the lilt of a native Marnachin. The Marnachins were the first to kill their dragon population, so Aldric was not inclined to sympathy for their lack of native dragons, though he supposed it was unfair to blame a man for the actions of his great-great-great-grandfathers.
“You’ve found him.”
The southerner made a peculiar little nod, pointing his head down and to the side in greeting. “I am Lito, of Marnachi.”
“Aldric, His Majesty’s Dragon Keeper for the capital region.” He had only recently been made Dragon Keeper, after fifteen years’ service as an assistant to his grandfather. The title still felt odd coming from his mouth.
“I have traveled a long way that I might see your majestic creatures,” Lito said. “I am an artist, and I cannot hope to portray dragons with any accuracy without seeing them personally.”
“You won’t see them until the sun dips below the top of the tallest trees. At this hour, they sleep.”
Lito frowned slightly, as though he expected dragons to conform to his plans. “Might I trouble you with a few inquiries, then?”
It was indeed a trouble. Aldric did not earn his post by sitting idly, though of course in the beginning there was a good bit of that. It took time to gain the trust of the dragon clan, and the best way to do so was unobtrusive presence. That, however, was years before Lito arrived, and the clan was long accustomed to Aldric, allowing him to go about his duties unbothered.
Nevertheless, a dragon keeper was supposed to serve as a kind of ambassador on behalf of dragons. Most often this meant calming the fears of His Majesty’s subjects who wrongly believed that dragons ate humans. They did not, for reasons Aldric could not state with certainty. Perhaps humans simply did not taste good.
“A few questions,” he agreed. Whatever reluctance he felt, Aldric was keenly conscious of his duties.
Lito cheered and pulled a sheaf of paper from his coat pocket along with some kind of charcoal wrapped in fabric scraps, clearly designed for writing, though unfamiliar to Aldric. “First, what precisely does a dragon keeper do?”
“I facilitate the mutually beneficial relationship between the dragons and His Majesty’s royal interests.”
“Yes, the entire purpose of keeping dragons is for protection, is it not?”
“It is,” agreed Aldric. “Dragons are territorial. They’re a strong defense for the entire royal compound, the royal woods, and the city.”
“How do they defend the city? I’ve heard that dragons do not, in fact, breathe fire.”
“No, but the females spit acid, which feels like fire.”
“Only the females? And have you personally experienced the feel of this acid?” asked Lito while writing.
“Male dragons fight with each other on occasion to determine who will be the clan’s leader. They could do a great deal of damage if they spit acid.” They already did considerable damage without acid. The previous spring one of the younger males had tried to challenge the leader and in the process of losing gained a collection of scars, not to mention while fighting the two dragons had felled a dozen trees, a shed, and a not insignificant stretch of fence.
“And yes, I was hit with drops of acid once. One of the juveniles was practicing and didn’t realize the extent of her range. It was extremely painful.” Aldric hoped not to repeat the experience. Adult females weren’t prone to practicing, and they liked him well enough so they would take care not to hit him in any event. “It’s why every structure in the city is roofed with slate. It takes multiple hits with acid to get through slate, and that gives the residents ample time to get to their cellars.”
“Do the males also defend you?”
“None of the dragons are defending us,” corrected Aldric, attempting to mask his annoyance at the assumption. “They defend their territory. And yes, the males drop heavy objects from heights no arrows can reach.” Boulders were a particular favorite of theirs, and the royal guardsmen kept great piles nearby.
“A formidable defense,” said Lito. “You said it’s a mutually beneficial relationship. How so for the dragons?”
“Dragons don’t like to be outside in unpleasant weather, and the dragon population along the coast outnumbers caves.” He pointed to the dragon houses. “We provide them with an alternative. In addition, they enjoy use of the royal woods without any of the dragon traps that are found elsewhere.”
“Dragon traps?”
“They have a taste for mutton. It makes them unpopular among the country folk.”
“Understandably. The royal woods provide enough game?”
“Yes, and should game grow scarce we release swine. They go wild and reproduce quickly enough. We haven’t a great many dragons here, as they are not prone to collecting in large numbers, and if the population gets too large the younger males, and females if needed, will be evicted from the clan. The leader won’t allow his clan to outgrow their food supply.”
“How many dragons do you have?”
All this questioning was very tiresome. Aldric needed to replace the slate on the roof of the larger dragon house or the clan would grow unhappy about the damp. Since they wouldn’t allow tradesmen near their houses a dragon keeper and his assistant had to be handy about maintenance.
“Twelve adults, two juveniles, and one or two hatchlings. It will be at least a month before the mother lets me get close enough to know how many hatched.”
“Dragons do not reproduce at a prodigious rate, then. I had heard this, but it’s immensely difficult to know what one hears of dragons is true and what is exaggerated to the point of falsehood.”
“They live eighty years or more. Prodigious reproduction would lead to overpopulation.”
Lito finally looked up from his paper. “Why do they not migrate south? I believe the Ethdelins would welcome them.”
“Southern dragons were a different breed.” Aldric had thought th
is would have been known to anyone interested in dragons. “Ours do not care for the heat. They don’t like to live in the inland regions of Corancia as it is too hot, though some juvenile males will reside further inland if no clan will accept them. None have been reported in the plains.”
The plains spanned a vast distance where dragons would be unhappy in the absence of shade and shelter. The Great River bisected the plains, marking the division between Corancia in the north and Ethdelin in the south, but as far as Aldric knew southern dragons never inhabited the plains either. Dragons liked varied terrain with hiding places, not flat expanses unbroken even by trees.
Lito began removing art supplies from his satchel. “I must sketch the terrain. The light here is excellent.”
“Stay on this side of the fence,” warned Aldric.
“Does the fence keep dragons in?” The southerner eyed it critically. “It seems rather weak for that task.”
“It’s not to keep the dragons in. It’s to keep the people out.”
This gave Lito pause. “Are the dragons very dangerous?”
“Not if you stay on your side of the fence. It marks the heart of the clan’s territory and only people they trust can enter safely.”
“How does one gain dragons’ trust?”
“A great deal of patience.”
He would never answer all of Lito’s questions, Aldric decided. The artist had an inexhaustible supply of questions, while Aldric had much less inclination to answer them all. He was too busy for such a nuisance, even a nuisance as attractive as Lito.
****
“Is that the southerner sitting by the fence?” asked Esan.
“Yes. Another piece.”
Esan handed the slate over. “I heard he’s an artist.”
Aldric hadn’t heard that until he spoke with the man, but then he didn’t pay attention to gossip the way his assistant did. Esan claimed to be aware of gossip only because his wife followed it, an assertion Aldric considered dubious. It didn’t matter. Esan was a good assistant; whether or not he cared about the city’s chattering was his own business.
“He is an artist very enamored with dragons.”
“They are splendid creatures,” said Esan.
“Indeed. I only wish he would read a book on the subject instead of bothering me with basic questions he could easily find answers to elsewhere.”
Esan shrugged. He possessed only the most rudimentary reading ability himself and couldn’t write at all because he’d never thought learning to be worth the effort. While Aldric didn’t consider himself a very learned man (he knew little and cared not at all about philosophy, religious texts, and the like) he was fully literate. A dragon keeper had to be in order to keep his records. Perhaps Aldric could suggest the most accurate titles to Lito and thereby save himself further questioning, presuming the artist could read of course.
“I hope he doesn’t think they’re livestock,” said Esan. “Why some people believe that I cannot imagine.”
He was correct. The first rule of working with dragons was to respect that they were independent and intelligent creatures. Dragons wouldn’t be tamed, and they did exactly as they pleased. Despite this, every so often some fool in the army would come up with a grand plan to domesticate dragons for military use. Last time that was attempted a group of soldiers had kidnapped an egg from one of the coastal clans, hoping to harness the hatchling. The hatchling’s clan destroyed an entire castle to rescue it and the military still hadn’t recovered its image from that debacle.
“He seems to know that much, at least.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met an artist,” mused Esan.
“You’ve an excellent chance now. I’m sure he’d be happy to meet with you to discuss dragons further.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to answer them? The ladies say he’s handsome but shows them no interest, so he might share your inclinations.”
Lito was handsome, yes, with his striking eyes and full lips. Even if he did share Aldric’s inclinations it was doubtful whether he could stop asking about dragons long enough to act upon them. Moreover, Aldric didn’t want his assistant speculating on his liaisons. “Less gossiping and more repairs from you,” he said.
Esan handed over another piece of slate, and they worked in silence for a few minutes. Under the roof they were repairing, the dragons began to wake from their slumber. Aldric could hear them lazily thumping their tails and yawning, as was their habit when they first stirred. The juveniles were notably energetic.
Newly hatched and juvenile dragons caused most of Aldric’s repair work, as they were a combination of rambunctious and careless of their surroundings, which inevitably resulted in property damage. Aldric and Esan were fixing the roof because one of the juveniles had knocked off several slates with his tail that morning.
When Aldric was happy with the roof he declared, “Now we needn’t worry about unhappy dragons if it rains tonight.”
“It will,” said Esan. He was quite good at predicting the weather, so Aldric took his word for it. “Do you think the young male will be evicted from the clan when the hatchlings appear?”
“Possibly. I’m meeting Purdeon in the morning so I should have a better understanding tomorrow.” Purdeon was the gamekeeper of the royal woods and would update Aldric on the state of the dragons’ prey.
The two juveniles bounded out of the dragon house. Already half again Aldric’s height, they chased each other around, making yelps of pleasure. It was safest not to get in their way, so Aldric and Esan remained on the roof. Watching their antics Aldric was reminded anew how wondrous dragons were, and he almost envied Lito seeing them for the first time.
As much as Aldric could make out the artist was busy sketching. If Esan had any thoughts on Aldric’s observation of the southerner, he wisely kept them to himself.
Chapter Two
The dragons were magnificent, if somewhat smaller than Lito had envisioned. He watched their movement, noting the way they relied on their tails to balance when making a sharp turn, the quick snaps of their heads, and flexible legs. All the motion would be difficult to convey. Clearly, he would need to observe dragons on multiple occasions if he ever hoped to depict their movements realistically. Yet at the same time he wished they would move less so he might accurately observe their bodies.
He sketched out a dragon in mid-bound as it leapt toward its companion, taking the time only for the barest outline before looking up once more. Upon returning his gaze to the dragons he realized why they looked small. The first two were obviously the juveniles Aldric had mentioned, because a third dragon had emerged while he was sketching and it was at least twice the size of the first two, with a height no shorter than three men combined and a length closer to four men if one included the tail.
At first glance, the dragon was a drab brown. Once it stepped into the light of the evening sun, the scales reflected sunlight such that the creature appeared made from molten gold. Lito hadn’t imagined that such magnificence was possible and knew that a lifetime of study wouldn’t be enough time to paint a dragon.
The adult unfurled its massive wings and growled before leaping into the air. Perhaps it was the mother. In any event, the juveniles followed. Lito abandoned his sketching in favor of simple observation. It seemed ludicrous that a creature as large as the dragon could achieve flight, and yet flying appeared effortless for the mother. Her offspring were not quite so graceful.
Nine more dragons emerged while Lito watched, each as awe-inspiring as the next. He noted that they all launched themselves with the wind and beat their wings furiously, though once airborne they took different routes and their wing movements were more sedate. In coloring, they were all similar shades of brown until the light of the setting sun hit, when they each shone in a different color of gold or bronze.
Lito was so enraptured that he planned to remain where he was until the dragons returned, hoping to see them by moonlight. In the intervening time, he supposed he would draw
what he’d seen, though he could never hope to do the sight justice.
He focused on the basics at first, sketching out several crude outlines of dragons in various poses and stages of flight. That was not challenging. Then he began to draw the first adult as he’d seen her, emerging from the dragon house.
After three false starts he was pleased with the way he’d drawn her head and was just starting in on the neck when a shadow fell over his paper. “You should go back to your lodgings,” said Aldric.
“I want to see them again. The moonlight will give me a different perspective.”
The dragon keeper shook his head. “There has been a troll in the area recently.”
Lito began to pack his supplies immediately. “You allow trolls?” None were permitted in Marnachi except in one swamp where trolls lived undisturbed because it was such a miserable swamp that no humans cared to fight for it.
“No, but on occasion one will come down from the high mountains on the eastern border. The patrols will get it soon.”
“Do dragons fight trolls?” he asked, thinking it might make for an exciting painting.
“As a rule, no. They’ve been known to clash over the same prey from time to time.”
“I imagine the dragons win.”
“Yes.”
“I appreciate you warning me.” Much as Lito wanted to see the dragons again at the earliest opportunity, he had no desire to become a troll’s next meal.
“Of course. It wouldn’t do to have anyone eaten by a troll.”
“I will return tomorrow.”
Aldric nodded. His face had excellent bone structure, and his body was well-muscled. He would make a good model, though in honesty Lito could think of more enjoyable and interactive endeavors he’d like to partake in with the dragon keeper, many involving a bed, though the furniture wasn’t strictly required. That, however, was not relevant. He doubted Aldric would be interested.
The Dragon Keeper Page 1