Nodding, Klaus peered toward the west. “Beacon, you say? I can’t see anything but stars.”
Shards! He’d forgotten about his dragon sight! Could anyone else see the fire?
Ernst stepped closer, pointing at the pass. “There, Klaus, see that bright star, yellower than the rest? That’s fire.”
“Looks like a star to me,” Klaus said, shaking his head. “Dragons and fire. What’s gotten in to you, Hans?”
“Perhaps he’s a dragon lover!” yelled a throaty voice.
Hans whirled.
Bill, stained teeth set in an ugly grin, leaped onto the stage. “Hans raced to that dragon,” he shouted. “His daughter hasn’t been seen since.” He stabbed a finger at Hans. “How do we know the dragon hasn’t taken her?”
Hans’ breath caught in his throat.
“You’re a dragon lover, Hans, aren’t you?” Bill sneered. “Offering up your daughter as a sacrifice.”
“Of course not. A preposterous notion!” Hans drew himself up straight. “That fire is a beacon, set by the guards to warn us that tharuks are invading Lush Valley.” The crowd was riveted. Hans called, “We’re under attack. We have to prepare!”
Murmurs crept through the crowd. Folk shifted uneasily. Good. They were listening.
“We need to protect our families and village,” Hans urged them. “We must form an army to fight them, or we’ll be overrun, slaughtered in our sleep or taken as slaves for Zens.”
“The only thing that’s attacked us is a stinking dragon,” yelled Bill. “Hans really thinks a dragon lit that fire. It probably roasted the guards at the pass for dinner.” His laugh rasped like a knife on a whetstone. “Tharuks have never come to Lush Valley!” Bill’s eyes glinted yellow in the torchlight. “Why would they come now?”
People cursed Hans. “Dragon lover.”
“Mud flinger!”
“No, you have to listen. I—” Hans started.
“Hans!” Klaus bellowed, rapping his metal gavel against the stone-topped podium. “You’re inciting unrest and disrupting our citizens. I won’t have these wild rumors.”
Superstitious ignorant clods! It was a beacon fire. Way larger than men could light. Only a dragon could’ve built that pile and set it alight. Tharuks would swarm over the pass, attack Western Settlement, then head straight for Lush Valley.
Hans scanned the crowd: farmers, bakers, the odd smithy or warrior. Plenty were younger than Tomaaz. Many, too old to fight. Tharuks against them? Within hours, Lush Valley would be defeated.
“Arm yourselves. Protect your families!” Hans yelled.
“Order! Order!” Klaus bellowed. He smashed his metal gavel against the podium, sharp cracks ricocheting across the square.
The crowd quieted, but they were still restless.
Klaus faced Hans. “Go home, now!” His voice carried. “The shock of that shrotty dragon has addled your brain! Get out of here.” He flung his arm across the crowd, pointing north, toward Hans’ farm. “Now!”
Old Bill stepped aside to let Hans through, a smarmy smile plastered across his face.
§
Lofty elbowed Tomaaz, muttering, “Told you dragons were nothing to be feared. My grandma was Queen’s Rider.”
“And now my sister,” Tomaaz replied glumly, traipsing home behind Pa and Lofty’s parents. His life was getting more complicated by the heartbeat. It seemed like everyone in Lush Valley was hiding secrets.
“Your pa’s excuse might’ve fooled the villagers, but not our family.” Lofty nudged him again. “Hey, both of us have Queen’s Riders in our families. Does that make us cousins or something?”
Tomaaz laughed. Trust Lofty to see the light side.
Up ahead, Pa was walking with Lofty’s parents, his shoulders slumped. He was muttering to Ernst and Ana, and waving a hand toward the beacon fire.
“Do you think that’s a fire, or is your pa crazy?”
Tomaaz shrugged. “He’s always been able to see stuff in the distance.”
“Tharuks must be coming, then. Can’t wait to fight them.” Lofty’s grin lacked his usual bravado.
So, he was scared, too.
Tomaaz scuffed his boots in the gravel. “You know, we’ve been chaffing for adventure, but Ezaara disappearing and tharuks stomping into Lush Valley wasn’t quite what I wanted.”
“And I won’t even get to kiss Ezaara again.” Lofty sighed.
Tomaaz rolled his eyes, then stopped dead in his tracks. “Shards!”
“What?” Lofty raised an eyebrow.
“I forgot all about seeing Beatrice tonight.”
“At least she’ll still be here tomorrow, waiting for you.”
As if Beatrice would wait for him …well, maybe—with her red hair and blushing cheeks. Tomaaz hadn’t kissed a girl before.
“Come on.” Lofty yanked him forward. “Let’s see what our old men are nattering about.”
They sped up.
“I’m sure Bill’s a tharuk spy,” Pa was saying. “His eyes were yellow, as if he’s on swayweed.”
Swayweed! Tomaaz’s mind reeled. That was one of Zen’s substances. It changed love to hate, and hate to love, breaking allegiance and loyalty, allowing Zens to force a bond with people who would normally hate him.
“I’ve often wondered about Lovina,” Ana said.
“Now, that had never occurred to me,” Ernst replied. “She could be numlocked.”
“Marlies and I wondered about her being on numlock. Years ago, when Bill first visited Lush Valley, he asked Marlies to treat Lovina’s slow-witted mind, but we couldn’t pinpoint anything. Besides, he said she’s been like that for years, so we thought we were being overly-concerned.”
Lovina had never responded, just stared at them blankly. The idiot, some of the others called her when she turned up with Old Bill for market days. Poor girl, she’d never done anyone harm. But then again, she never did much good either. She just existed.
When they reached the turnoff to Ernst’s farm, Ana cautioned them, “Keep your doors locked. You don’t want to wake up in chains, being dragged away by tharuks.”
Ernst shook his head. “It’s the last thing any of us want.”
“It’s two days’ fast ride by horseback from Western Settlement to here, and tharuks travel by foot,” said Pa. “So, we should have a day or two to prepare.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow, see who we can get onside,” Ernst replied.
Tomaaz bumped knuckles with Lofty, and Lofty, Ernst and Ana went along the road.
He and Pa were left alone, walking across the farm. “Ask me anything,” Pa said.
Well, that was direct. Tomaaz released a gust of breath. “Why did you never tell us? You could’ve trusted me and Ezaara.”
“I would have told you in a flash, if Klaus and his ignorance weren’t such a danger. You saw them, tonight: their hatred; their close-mindedness.” Pa shook his head. “Scared of the very creatures that have kept them safe for so long.”
“Dragons haven’t kept us safe! We’ve never seen them here.”
“Dragons and riders patrol the outer rim of the Grande Alps, keeping the passes free of tharuks.” Pa clutched his arm. “Something’s happened. Something terrible caused that beacon fire. You and I must be prepared. We’ll stand with Ernst and Ana and anyone else who’ll join us.”
They reached the house, and Hans opened the door, ushering Tomaaz inside.
Tomaaz sank into a chair by the hearth and tugged off his boots. “What made you and Ma become dragon riders?”
Pa tossed some kindling on the hearth, and kneeled to blow on the embers. “My mother was enslaved by tharuks.” He blew again. The kindling caught, and the fire flared to life. “Dragons and riders battled to free fifty slaves. Only six survived. Most were too injured to go far. Others had been broken with numlock, their minds chained so they couldn’t run to the dragons rescuing them.” Pa tossed a small log on the fire. “My sister was one of the wounded. Whipped for defending my mother, she could only ho
bble. My mother ran, half dragging her, but a tharuk arrow hit Evelyn in the chest and she died in Ma’s arms.” A ragged sigh tore from Pa’s chest. “A dragon carried them both away—Evelyn to her grave, and my mother home to us.”
That was an awful violent death. How had Pa’s mother felt, taking her dead daughter home?
“That day, I swore I’d become a dragon rider and fight tharuks.” Pa strode to a drawer and pulled out their hunting knives, tossing one to Tomaaz. “Keep your weapons near when you sleep. If tharuks attack, we’ll meet them head on.” Pa gave a grim chuckle. “I hoped that it would never come to this, but it’s the reason Ma and I taught you and Ezaara to fight.”
“You what?” Tomaaz gaped. “All those races, the endless archery practice, the sword fights, were a ruse to train us for combat?” He’d never thought their bouts were any more than fun.
“Think of it as preparation for life.”
A life he’d never imagined. “How do you fight a tharuk?”
“Son. It’s late. Tomorrow I’ll teach you, Lofty, and anyone else who’s keen, how to fight those monsters. The best we can do now is get some rest.”
It took Tomaaz forever to get to sleep. When he finally drifted off, he dreamed of Ezaara, battling monsters from dragonback, high on a mountain pass.
Tomaaz awoke to pounding.
Tharuks! It had to be! Within moments, he had his sword and knives at his belt and was tying his boot laces. He rushed into the living room.
Pa was frozen, staring at the door. The wood was quivering under constant hammering.
“Tharuks?” Tomaaz asked.
Pa turned. “Villagers.”
“So, you can see through wood?”
Pa nodded. “It’s called dragon sight.”
“You mean—”
Pa chuckled, striding to the door. “I saw you sneaking out to meet Lofty on many occasions!”
What next? Nothing was normal anymore. Not even Pa’s eyes.
“Hopefully, the villagers have seen reason about the beacon fire and are here to train,” Pa said.
“In the middle of the night?” Tomaaz grabbed his arm. “You saw how angry they were.”
Pa shrugged. “Maybe they’ve just finished their meeting. You know how Klaus goes on.” He opened the door.
It was only settlers, not bloodthirsty tharuks. Crowded around the door, a few were holding torches. Their faces were tight with fear. Behind them, a crowd spread across the grass, many in the shadows. There must be fifty people here—men, women and littlings.
“Good evening,” Pa called.
Evening? It was after midnight.
The smithy stepped to the front. “Hans.”
“It’s been a big day,” Pa said evenly. “How can I help?”
“You said you saw a beacon fire. That a dragon set it alight and tharuks are coming. We want to know more.”
Tomaaz scanned the crowd. Pieter and Beatrice were here, too. He gave her a smile, but she looked too worried to smile back. Perhaps he could slip out and talk to her when they were done with whatever everyone was here for.
“Atop the Western Pass there’s a pyre, always ready in case tharuks breach the pass,” Pa replied. “I saw it burning. Tharuks might be here in a day or two.”
The smithy jerked his head back toward the Western Grande Alps. “Why a dragon, Hans?” Eyebrows raised, his face was etched with curiosity. “Why not the guards?”
The moments stretched out like a man on a rack.
Would Pa tell them what he really thought? Surely not.
Then Pa answered. “The fire seemed a lot larger than a standard pyre. We saw the dragon yesterday. It flew in that direction. It seemed logical that the dragon could’ve spotted tharuks and tried to warn us.”
“Logical?” A voice from the shadows cried in derision. “Since when is a friendly dragon logical?” Bill swaggered into the torchlight, his face contorted into a mask of hate. “Might be logical for a dragon lover!”
Someone jeered.
Hans held his hands up. “We must prepare for attack. Not fight amongst each other. We need to stand together against this outside threat.”
“A threat you’ve made up,” Bill sneered. “Tharuks aren’t coming. The truth is that Hans gave his daughter to a dragon.”
“Now, why would I do that?” Pa said, shifting his weight to move back inside the house.
The smithy stepped forward, poking a finger at Pa. “You tell us, Hans. Where’s Ezaara?” His burly chest rose and fell. “We demand to see her. Prove Bill wrong.”
“It’s terrible,” Pa said. “Terrible. She caught pilzkrank today and Marlies had to take her to the infirmary at Western Settlement.”
“Why?” yelled a settler. “Marlies healed my boy of pilzkrank last summer.”
That’s right. Little Adam had eaten infected fungi last year and nearly died. Tension radiated off the crowd. Bill wanted blood. Tomaaz could sense it.
Pa’s shoulders slumped and he gave a gutsy sigh. “Well, Ezaara was worse. We nearly lost Adam. I didn’t want to lose her, so Marlies rode off this evening.”
“So convenient!” Bill said.
Pa stepped inside, pushing the door shut. But the smithy was there, his weight heaving the door open and sending Pa sprawling on the floorboards.
Tomaaz’s heart hammered.
“Seize him,” Bill yelled. “We know what to do with filthy dragon lovers!”
With a cry, men surged into their home. The smithy dragged Pa out of the house by the ankles, his back and head thumping down the steps.
That had to hurt, but Pa didn’t cry out. “Hey,” yelled Tomaaz, drawing his sword.
He was instantly surrounded by a ring of men.
“Now, come on, Tomaaz,” said Pieter soothingly. “You don’t want to get hurt. We understand you standing by your father, but for now, you’re innocent. Make one move with that sword and that’s no longer the case.” Although his tone was reasonable, the threat in his words was as plain as the sword in Tomaaz’s hands.
Tomaaz couldn’t help Pa if he was in jail too, so he sheathed his sword.
“Hand us your weapons, son,” Pieter said.
Outside, the sound of a mallet cracked the air.
“I’m not your son,” Tomaaz snapped.
“Nor will you ever be,” Pieter barked back. “You’re the son of a filthy dragon friend.”
Fuming, Tomaaz shouldered through the ring and barged out the door, through the people milling outside their house. The smack of the mallet rang out. As he broke through the crowd, horror crept through Tomaaz’s belly.
Two men had driven a stake into the ground. Others were piling dry brush around it. Pa was struggling in the grip of the smithy while four men gagged him and tied his hands and feet to the stake.
Gods, they were going to burn him. No trial. No witnesses, just a dumb pig-headed burning in the middle of the night. Tomaaz frantically scanned the crowd for Klaus. Nowhere to be seen.
There! A flash of red hair in the torchlight.
Desperate, Tomaaz ran toward Beatrice, seizing her arm. “Beatrice, please, fetch Klaus. Hurry.”
Her eyes assessed him coolly. “Why, Tomaaz? Do you think you can talk your way out of this mess?”
“They’re going to kill Pa.” He clutched Beatrice’s arm tighter. “Please!”
“He consorted with dragons! He deserves to die!” Beatrice spat on Tomaaz’s hand. “Now take your hand off me or I’ll scream, and they’ll burn you too.” Her face was twisted with venom, ugly.
Tomaaz dropped her arm, stumbling backward.
Someone shoved him. He fell. A boot thudded into his ribs. He scrambled to his feet and dodged through the crush of bodies. Over the backs of several brawny men, Pa was now gagged and tied to the stake, on top of a pile of tinder-dry brush. Men were throwing tallow onto the brush. One torch and Pa would be in flames—burning alive.
Tomaaz’s skin crawled as he inched closer. He’d fight his way through, stick every
man like a pig. He’d rather die than let Pa burn. He drew his knife from his belt.
As if he could read Tomaaz’s mind, Pa’s eyes widened, and he shook his head.
Pa didn’t want him to fight? The idiot! Tomaaz slipped his knife back into its sheath, hand at the ready.
“So, who would like to see this dragon scum die?” Bill roared, leaping upon the brush and squeezing his fingers around Pa’s throat.
Tomaaz’s hand flew to his knife handle. One well-aimed throw and Bill would be dead.
“Don’t you even think about it,” a voice whispered, making his neck hairs rise. A blade pricked his ribs. Pieter.
“Wait,” Ernst called, barging through the ring of men around the unlit pyre.
Where had he come from? He hadn’t been here when the others had knocked on the door.
“We haven’t heard any solid proof against Hans yet,” Ernst stated.
“His daughter’s gone,” roared Bill, eyes glinting yellow. “No one’s seen her since the beast appeared.” The flickering torches cast demonic shadows across Bill’s face.
“And his wife has left too,” someone yelled from the crowd.
“He’s a dragon lover,” called a woman.
“Sacrificed his daughter to appease the beast!” screeched another
“That’s just rumor,” Ernst bellowed. “What will Klaus do, if he finds you’ve burned one of his best farmers because of gossip?”
“What will Klaus do if he finds out we’ve been harboring a dragon lover?” Bill bellowed back. “Burn him now and get it over with!”
More yelling broke out.
“Pieter,” Bill called. “Come up here and show everyone the proof you have against Hans.”
Proof? What had Pa left lying around?
“I’m a little busy,” Pieter yelled back, the increased pressure of his blade making Tomaaz flinch. “But my daughter will bring it.”
Men stepped aside to let Beatrice through. She stood in front of the stake, facing the villagers. From her pocket, she drew a scrap of cloth. “This cloth was in Hans’ barn! It’s covered with dragons—bronze ones, silver and red. This proves he covets dragons. Loves them!”
How had Tomaaz ever thought she was beautiful? Her face was full of hate.
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