(Dragonkin) Dragon Rider

by C. E. Swain

  When Chidren learned of the time that wasted clearing stumps in the north, he was furious. He expected the march to Argnon to begin as soon as he arrived, only to find the way still blocked for the larger pieces of the siege weapons that had to be moved south.

  As he sat in the headquarters tent waiting for Avren to return, the messenger arrived from the ruins north of Argnon. Chidren listened in disbelief as the messenger relayed the information he was given by the traitor. He was informed of the defeat of the six hundred solders that Avren had sent to the northeast, and of the death of the Dark Elf, Ranjgin. All were dead, and the empire lost less than one hundred men in the battle. Solders patrolled the southern part of the west dressed in red and white, but with the symbol of the new empire as well. The patrols were small, but their total numbers were not known, or from where they had come from. There was a king on the throne of the empire again, and it was the warrior in the dragon armor that they had failed to kill so many times. Also, the rumors were that he rode a dragon into battle, and ordinary men could not defeat him. The dragon was the biggest ever in the lands, but the traitor had never seen it, and did not believe it to exist.

  Chidren did not trust the traitor from Argnon, and thought he was trying to make fools of them. The only thing that he believed of the traitors report was the loss of the men in the northeast, and that the people of the west were fleeing.

  Avren walked into the tent later that day, and found Chidren waiting for him as he did.

  "Why is the path not cleared?" Chidren asked in a harsh tone.

  "Because the men who cut the trees work too slow." Avren replied.

  "It is your job to see that they work faster." Chidren told him. "And to see that the job is done faster."

  "I cannot be everywhere in the camp at the same time." Avren said. "But I do what I can."

  "By wasting all of our time clearing stumps in the north?" Chidren spat. "For what?"

  "To drill the men." Avren said, becoming concerned. "They need to be ready if we are to win this battle, and control the western part of the empire."

  "Have you sent any men to the south to kill the people and burn their towns?" Chidren asked, growing angrier.

  "Well, no. However I did send men to the east." Avren replied. "They should be returning any day now."

  "And what of these solders in the red and white who patrol the south?" Chidren asked.

  "The reports say that there are no more than forty men who ride these patrols." Avren pointed out. "And they stay to the south so they are of no concern to us."

  "Solders are in the south of the lands that we are trying to take, and you think they are of no concern to us?" Chidren growled, and stood from the chair behind the table.

  "We can eliminate them after the castle has been taken, and the west is ours." Avren said, as he walked to the map on the table. "If they stay south, they cannot interfere with our plans."

  "And if they do not stay south?" Chidren asked getting angrier at every answer Avren gave him.

  "Then we will kill them along with those in the castle." Avren replied, but noticed Chidren's anger, and the look in his eyes. "There are only a few of them, and could not be much of a problem."

  "And you know this to be a fact?" Chidren said, as he walked around the table.

  "Well, no, but the reports say so." Avren replied, and watched as Chidren walked to entrance of the tent.

  "What about these solders you sent to the east?" He asked, as he turned and walked back to Avren. "What has become of them?"

  "A runner should have arrived by now." Avren said. "When their commander returns, I will add him to the tree."

  "You will not be adding that commander to your tree, but I will be adding you!" Chidren shouted, and pulled the knife from his belt, shoving it into Avren's chest. "You are a fool, and have failed me for the last time," he finished, as he pulled the knife out, and wiped it on Avren's tunic just before he fell to the floor.

  Avren was shocked by the attack, and tried to crawl from the tent as Chidren called the guards. He was still alive as they hung him in the tree, and the last thing that he saw as he died, were the corpses of the men he had put there.

  Chidren sent for Mareston, and was waiting impatiently when he arrived.

  "If you were in command of the armies, what would you do first?" Chidren asked him.

  "Stop the useless drills, and have all of the men cutting trees in the south." Mareston replied.

  "And what of the siege weapons that are still unfinished?"

  "We have all we need, and can finish them along the way." Mareston said. "We have more than enough time to finish them at the camps at night during the march southeast."

  "You are now the second in command. Avren's tent is now yours, and all that is in it as well." Chidren said, as he walked to the chair behind the table. "Avren will not need it any longer."

  Mareston walked from the headquarters and over to Avren's tent. As he passed the tree, he noticed Avren hanging from one of the limbs, and he was not yet dead. This turn of events was not what he expected, but it was a chance to fight a siege war, instead of what Avren had planned.

  Several days later, Gaston rode into the camp with his men, along with the men sent to raid the outlying villages, but they carried nothing with them. None of the men were killed, and only two men were wounded on the raid, but it was not from fighting. Gaston rode to the headquarters, and noticed Avren in the tree before he entered. He was not sorry to see him there, but did not like the tree in the first place. Chidren and Mareston were in the tent when Gaston entered, and they looked at the map on the table, as they discussed the plans for the coming assault.

  "How did the raid go?" Chidren asked him as he looked up.

  "We burned three villages, and several houses to the ground, but there were no people, and there was nothing to take." Gaston replied. "You do wish us to continue the raids, do you not?" He asked.

  "Yes, and burn all that you find, but do it in a sweeping raid so that you do not leave any towns or villages standing between here and Argnon."

  "Is there anything else?" Gaston asked.

  "Yes, you will be leading the cavalry in the attack on the castle." Chidren informed him. "And the scouts as well."

  "Yes sir, I will prepare for the next raid, and will return in two weeks to report." Gaston replied.

  "That is all." Chidren said, and went back to the map on the table.

  Gaston walked from the tent, and rode back to the campsite where he and his men stayed when they were not riding across the countryside. The next day was spent getting the supplies and the men ready for the next raid, and because Gaston worked as hard as his men to prepare for it, they followed him with total devotion.

  Those men who were assigned to him grew in number each time he returned to camp, and now he was riding out with sixty men, to raid and burn the towns and villages between here and Argnon. His movements would be slowed by the addition of the twenty men, and they would not reach as far southeast as he wished, but he would do as he was commanded.

  The next morning when they rode from the camp, the day was just beginning, and Gaston felt uneasy. Something bothered him, but he could not tell what it was. For several days he felt it, and when they had reached the land beyond the fords of the Grayling River, it grew worse. All of the towns and villages were gone in this part of the realm, as well as the houses and fields of the people who lived around them, and they rode through the burned out land they had created. It was not until several days after they turned south, and rode in the direction of Argnon, that they encountered the solders of the empire. The ambush caught them off guard, and thirteen of his men were dead before they could react. The raiders attacked the place where the ambush had come, but the solders of the empire had disappeared when they reached it. Gaston turned his men west, and returned to the camp to report to Chidren.

  The next time that he rode from the camp, he would command five hundred men, and they would be in advance of the main a
rmy. The days ahead would show them that the empire would not give up easily, and that they would not reach Argnon unopposed. The empire was not as weak as they had thought them to be, and they would learn that soon, but it would not stop the events that were already in motion.

  *****

  It was getting hard to keep from sight in the land around Corlindum, and Fagerin was running out of places to hide. He had lost his best source of income when Beloran died, and with the dragon rider now in Glansford, there was nowhere left to turn. The brigand camp was too far away for him to reach without being discovered, and the eastern realm was not an option. The land around the cities was no longer overgrown, and choked with brush, and the trees had been cleared as well.

  It was getting late when Fagerin slipped from the hidden camp, and made his way to the road. He had not eaten that day because of the solders around the cities, and he went to the inn in Corlindum. Sitting by the fireplace as he ate drew less attention than sitting in the shadows, and Fagerin did not want to be recognized.

  The castle in Grimmen was a regular stop for him in the past, and he was able to come and go in secret because people did not travel as much then. Grif was the only problem that he had in the west, but Fagerin paid him well to allow him passage when he was in that realm. Even Grif was dead now, and all of the outlaws he knew had shared the same fate.

  He was about to leave when the dragon warrior walked into the tavern, and was handed a mug by the innkeeper. Fagerin did not wish to draw attention by leaving so soon after the warrior walked in, so he ordered another mug to sip slowly while he waited. It was not long before the warrior walked from the tavern, and Fagerin was able to slip out the door, unobserved.

  He stood in the shadows for some time, and waited to see if anyone was watching. He was about to continue on his way when he heard the noise in the ally not ten feet away. Fagerin froze where he was, and listened intently. Soon he could hear footsteps growing louder, as a figure came walking down the street in the direction of the tavern. He could not tell who it was, or whether it was a man or woman, but when they reached the entrance to the ally, the attack came.

  It lasted only a second, but the attempt was unsuccessful, and the attacker fled down the ally from which he came. The figure walked by him as he entered the tavern, but looked right at him before he did. Fagerin noticed the large eyes, and the slim features of the man, but was not expecting the man to see him. Within an hour he was out of the city, and on his way west. He stayed as close to the road as he could, but did not use it to travel for fear of being arrested. After several miles were between him and the inn, Fagerin made a camp for the night. He had to think about things for a while, and he needed a good place to hide while he did. He would just go as far west as he could, and hide out in the empty lands that were there he thought, but they would turn out not to be so empty. A time was coming where he would be forced to choose sides, and the choice he made, would decide his fate. The only question was which side would he choose.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Danorathin landed beside Menimeth's suite at the Dragon Tower, and after Menimeth had dismounted, curled up in a corner of the building and slept. The day had been as hard on the dragon as it was on his rider, and they needed to rest to regain their strength. The great stone courtyard was large enough for several dragons to land in at the same time, and several doors opened into the kings rooms from it. Carvings of dragons were on the stonework of the walls that separated it from the rest of the castle, and enclosed the courtyard. The very walls of the castle itself were filled with the carvings of ancient scenes of battles fought by the dragon riders of old. Menimeth noticed that all of the walls had carvings, except for one smooth wall between the doors to his sleeping rooms. The space was very large, and the smooth surface looked out of place among the elaborate carvings of the rest of the courtyard.

  Menimeth walked into the room where he slept, and removed his armor and swords, placing them on the stand that had been built for them. It was then that he noticed that the circlet he wore to speak with his dragon was missing. He walked out into the courtyard to look for it, and he looked in his room, but it was not to be found. There were others in the storerooms below the castle, and he decided to retrieve one in the morning. As he slept that night, he dreamed about the castle on the mountain, and the conical peak beside it. People were at the castle this time, and dragons came and went from the peak.

  The next morning when he awoke, the sun was just above the horizon. The rays of the morning sun streamed through the windows, and his armor which stood in the golden rays of the sunlight, seemed to glow brightly. Menimeth walked from his room, and out into the courtyard where his dragon slept, but Danorathin was not there.

  "Where are you, my friend?" He asked his dragon, and then realized he did not wear the circlet.

  He turned to walk back into his room, and then to the storerooms to retrieve another, when the words came into his mind clearly.

  "I was hungry, so I went hunting."

  "I can hear you." Menimeth said to his dragon, surprised.

  "Of course you can hear me, you are my rider."

  "But I do not wear the circlet that allows me to speak to you."

  "Then you do not need it." Danorathin replied.

  "But I needed it to speak with you when I was in Argnon, and I have had it on ever since." Menimeth replied. "How could I no longer need it?"

  "Because you have learned the ways of the dragon rider, and have mastered the magic you possess." Danorathin replied. "You have become the Dragon Lord that you were born to be."

  "You may be right my friend, but I do not feel like it."

  Menimeth walked into his room, and removed his armor from the stand. After securing it in place and strapping on his sword belt, he went to the kitchen for his breakfast. Soon after, he found himself in the corner of the small shop drinking Blackbeer, and thinking about what his dragon had said. Of all the things he could no longer get everyday because he was the king, he missed Farlin's brew the most. The Blackbeer they attempted to make in the castle was not even passable as Blackbeer, and so he came to the small shop when he could. Soon the shop would be in a building by the great road, and it would be part of the new inn Menimeth had offered the owner, and it would no longer be small.

  He thought about his dragon, and the circlet he had worn for so long. Why, now, he wondered, did he no longer need it? And who was the man or men who betrayed them in the north, and where did the information they passed on, go. These were some of the questions he asked himself, but the only answers he could come up with were just more questions. There were many mysteries that needed some answers, but the biggest question of all worried him the most. Who was the dark elf who attacked his men on the great road, and why was someone of the races of dark magic in the empire?

  The morning was just beginning in the cities, and the people bustled here and there doing the chores required for the coming day. The market had grown over the last several weeks and new items were arriving daily, but it was not as busy as it would be in the future. The city was beginning to fill with people from the realms gradually, and buildings were beginning to be used throughout the city. It was merchants that were needed to make the cities grow, and Menimeth hoped that some of the refugees that were streaming into the empire would fill that role.

  It was by chance that Caladon and Banadar walked into the small shop that morning, and they noticed the dragon rider in the corner as soon as they entered, and smiled at him with the mischievous eyes of young boys who were on an adventure.

  "It is good to see you again." Menimeth said to the brothers.

  "And how are you this fine day?" Caladon asked.

  "What is that wonderful aroma?" Banadar added, as he stuck his nose into the air, sniffing.

  "I am better now, and that is Blackbeer, a very good way to start your mornings." Menimeth said, to each in turn. "You should try some."

  "Sounds like a good idea." Banadar said, and walked to
the front, where the vender filled his order.

  "Is there no inn in the cities for travelers to stay in when on the road?" Caladon asked, and sat at the table with the dragon rider when he offered him the chair. "We camped at the edge of town last night, but we had hoped to find an inn today."

  "One is not yet available, but we are working on it." Menimeth said. "Soon we will have several, but that day has not come yet. You will both have suites in the castle across the great road from this city, and they will be available to you for as long as you are here."

  "You can do that?" Caladon asked.

  "Yes I can." Menimeth said. "And more."

  Banadar returned with two mugs of the dark brew, and handed one to his brother. The look on their faces when they tasted the drink was one of great surprise. They had never tasted anything like it before, and liked it very much.