The barmaid left, and Derkas looked back to Devarius.
“Well?” Derkas asked.
Devarius broke from his thoughts, then he heard something from the table to his side. He held his hand up, urging Derkas to be quiet, and he tilted his ear to the side.
“Well, tomorrow’s the day.” A man at the table next to them talked in a high-pitched voice, ale clearly the culprit. “I get my very own dragon. I get to pick it myself. You know I always wanted to be a dragonrider for the empire. I mean, it’s the most prestigious task there is—I mean, who wants to be a chef or a blacksmith? I get to be a warrior, but not just any warrior—a dragon warrior. The dragon’s gonna be nothing but a rat when I get him tomorrow, but I guess I get to train him up. One of those new hatchlings, you know? But he’ll be big one day, and then I’ll be a dragonrider, take that beast to the sky, and smite the resistance, the fools who don’t pay taxes. What worthless scum.”
“Morning, huh? Going to the nursery?” one of his tablemates asked.
“Yeah, I got a paper form the captain. It’s important paperwork, it’s signed by him and everything.” The man hiccupped. “It took some convincing, a lot of doing, a lot of favors. You know, not everyone can be a dragonrider. I had to past a lot of tests—endurance, paperwork, intelligence, you know? I’m real smart. I am. Yeah, they picked me. I got a paper, and I’m gonna get me a dragon. It’s gonna be mine.”
Devarius turned back to Derkas, raising his eyebrows. “You know?” Devarius rubbed his chin. “I think I have an idea.”
22
Paedyn donned his armor. He wasn’t used to wearing it. Paedyn preferred cloaks or leather armor at worst, so this platemail wasn’t for him. However, he knew there was a well-founded reason for him to protect himself. The dragomen were not to be trifled with. But this was something that needed to happen. The resistance had no laws, but it was time they put a few in place. Attacking each other was unwarranted, especially when the empire still stood. Their attacking efforts should be focused in much better places.
“Tight?” Tynaer asked.
“Very,” Paedyn said.
“Deal with it.”
Paedyn closed his eyes and wished he were on a boat. He wouldn’t have to wear armor if he were on a boat. And the beautiful ocean breeze could run through his hair.
“Paedyn?”
“Hmm?” Paedyn asked.
“Are you ready?”
“Nope. Let’s go.”
Paedyn and Tynaer led more than a hundred men to the east of the city, to the dragomen’s camp. Paedyn climbed atop his wyvern, Pyro. There were at least sixty wyvernriders of the hundred men.
The dragomen camp was nearby, less than an hour’s walk from the heart of their new city. When they arrived, Paedyn saw them all in a valley. They didn’t post guards to protect their flanks. They were arrogant, and thought they could do whatever they wanted, but Paedyn planned to prove them wrong.
In the valley, they were scattered about a sparring field, each of them practicing their magic. Their bodies transformed to blues, reds, greens, gold, purple, and silver. Each color had a unique ability, and Paedyn studied them with fascination. It was too bad the wyvern oil was so additive, because the warriors themselves, and the skills and magic they possessed, were extraordinary, and would be of great benefit in defeating the empire.
When Paedyn and Tynaer reached the top of the hill to look down at the dragomen, they all ceased their practicing. The rest of the warriors remained behind Paedyn, out of sight, and he and Tynaer studied the dragomen camp.
“Surrender now,” Paedyn called down to them.
The remaining dragomen turned away from each other to face Paedyn and Tynaer. Weapons left scabbards, and men who weren’t in dragoman form drank oil.
Paedyn shivered. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Surrender. No more harm needs to come over this.”
“You dare threaten our oil supply?” one of the dragomen snarled. “It is because of us that you’re all still alive. Without us, we will surely fail against the empire. It is you who needs to stand down.”
“The wyvern oil is far too addictive. It needs to be moderated—”
“You need to be moderated,” the dragomen interrupted.
With a scream from the man, the dragomen charged.
Paedyn shrugged. “Well, at least the wyvern oil seems to be affecting their intelligence.”
Tynaer tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
Paedyn raised his brows. “We have the high ground.”
Paedyn turned around, signaling to the others to attack. Wyvernriders and warriors sped up the hill from behind him, and they rushed past to face the dragomen head-on.
“Remember,” Paedyn shouted, “try not to kill them!”
Blades clang together at the bottom of the hill. Paedyn raised his hand high, and Pyro flew over him. He reached higher and grabbed the leather strap of the saddle. Pyro didn’t stop flying, and yanked Paedyn off the ground. He clawed at the saddle, pulling until he was able to sit all the way straight, then he tied himself on with the straps and unsheathed his rapier.
He knew his rapier wasn’t an efficient weapon to fight with while on the back of a wyvern, but he liked his weapon, and didn’t plan to change it for the world. Pyro sped forward, flying straight toward the dragomen. Paedyn didn’t try to slash his weapon, but he jabbed it at each man he passed. They moved so fast, that at first, no one noticed what he did, but then six dragomen dropped their weapons and clutched their bleeding biceps.
Paedyn laughed.
What’s so funny? Pyro asked.
“Fear me!” he yelled. “For I am the mosquito!”
Bloody annoying insect.
“You got that right,” Paedyn chuckled. “And they’ll be so distracted by me, the others will be able to take them down.”
You have a strange way of fighting.
“So I am told.”
They continued the fight, Pyro igniting the sky and Paedyn stabbing his rapier through biceps, thighs, and calves. The dragomen had more strength than regular men, but his attacks still wounded them. He watched as the inevitable happened. Men died. They died on both sides, but neither was easy. Even though the dragomen opposed them, they were still good men, before the addiction. Paedyn couldn’t blame them for it. He blamed the need for the wyvern oil to be used that way to begin with. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. And now, they were paying for it.
The battle didn’t last long. Even though the dragomen were strong, they weren’t organized, and the wyverns were stronger. They had to knock over half of them unconscious before the rest of the dragomen gave up. Ten dragomen were dead, and three resistance warriors, one of whom had a wyvern.
Paedyn led the dragomen back into the city. The wyverns walked alongside, blocking all the dragomen in. Others were dragged behind by other warriors because they were either rendered unconscious or too injured to walk. The sight wasn’t pretty, and everyone in the city came out onto the streets to see the walk of shame.
“What are we going to do with these dragomen?” Tynaer asked.
Paedyn shrugged. “I don’t know. We don’t have enough cells for them.”
“Perhaps the wyverns could watch them.”
“Excuse me?” Paedyn asked.
“You know, the wyverns. Don’t they stay outside of the city to the west? Perhaps they can stay in the center of the wyvern camp. They’ll be without oil, and none should try to attempt escape. If they do, the wyverns can stop them.”
Paedyn bit his lip. “It’s a good idea.” He turned to Pyro. “What do you think?”
I’ll ask.
Paedyn rocked his head from side to side.
“Well?” Tynaer asked.
“He’s asking the others.”
“Why are you rocking your head side to side?”
Paedyn grinned. “I’m humming a song in my head. It’s quite catchy. Perhaps I should make some lyrics for it and sing aloud?”
“No,
that’s quite all right,” Tynaer said.
“We defeated the dragomen today,
And they thought they’d have their way,
But they stand no chance to wyverns’ desire,
They stand no chance to fire.
With each step we take,
Victory we make,
The dragomen have failed,
Truth be told, they have been nailed,
By the beauty and brilliance of fire.
They cannot be trusted, they cannot be torn
From their passion of destruction this morn’,
But we shall stop them, yes sirree,
And we have captured them, yippee,
All because of fire.”
Tynaer glared at Paedyn with wide eyes. “Really? Can you think of anything but fire?”
“Sure I can,” Paedyn said, grinning. “I also think about toy boats.”
“Please don’t sing about toy boats,” Tynaer groaned.
“Darn, I was starting to come up with lyrics.”
“Just … don’t.”
“Fine,” Paedyn muttered.
The wyverns do not much like the task of human-sitting, but they understand the need and will do so, Pyro said.
“Human-sitting?” Paedyn asked. “Tell them they need not sit on them.”
Pyro mentally rolled his eyes in Paedyn’s mind.
“Is that a yes to them watching the dragomen?” Tynaer asked.
“Yes, but it seems they don’t like being the nanny.”
Tynaer laughed. “Don’t worry, none of us do.”
23
Devarius stayed at the pub late, watching the soldier who was supposed to get a dragon egg with keen interest. He made sure to pay attention when he got up from the table. The man eventually left his table, stumbling out of the pub to his room in the inn above. Devarius followed him. Devarius was used to keeping in the shadows, and his dark brown complexion helped him to blend into the dark unseen. He followed the man upstairs and into the hallway outside of his room. The man barely noticed as Devarius pulled a rock from his pocket and slammed it against the back of his head. The man fell down to the ground, hard. Derkas and Zaviana arrived behind Devarius and the three of them dragged the body into the room.
Once inside, they locked the door and barred it with the broken legs of chairs from inside the room. They tied the man up to make sure he could not escape. Then they waited.
It took almost an hour for the man to come to, even with the splashes of the water they gave to him. When he finally did, his eyes opened wide and he was horrified.
“Who … who … who are you?” he asked.
Devarius grinned, grabbing a chair and setting it in front of the man.
“Us? Don’t mind us. What we are curious about is you. After all, you are so intelligent, so smart—you were able to become a dragonrider. Now that is impressive. How exactly does that ceremony go? Do you just stride on up there with your paper and tell them to give you a dragon? Or is there something else that happens?” Devarius asked.
The man raised a skeptical eyebrow, and his eyes turned to coal as he glared at Devarius and Zaviana.
“Who are you for me to answer to? You’re nothing more than a slave. Let me go and get out of my sight.”
Derkas stepped up now, appearing out of the shadows. He held a long dagger that he gently shaved pieces of arm hair off with. “Oh, these two? Well, they would be my acquaintances. And I suggest you answer their question. This blade is a little sharp and it might take a little while for it to get dull.”
The man quivered. “You wouldn’t. Do you know who I am? I am—”
“I know exactly who you are. You’re a spoiled nobility brat,” Derkas said. “And let me tell you something. I’m not too fond of people like you.”
The man hung his head in shame. Defeated.
“What is your name?” Devarius asked.
“I am Raemond,” the man said.
“Raemond, is it? Well, how exactly did you acquire yourself a dragon? What kind of strings did you pull?”
“Well, I’m smart, and crafty, and I had to pass a lot of tests.”
“You bought your way to this dragon, didn’t you?” Derkas asked.
“Well, no. I … I—”
Derkas slammed the back of his hand into the man’s jaw. The slap echoed through the room. “Answer honestly.”
“Yes… I—my father paid.”
“And this certificate? Does anyone really know who Raemond is? Or are you just another pretty face? So forgettable, like everyone else?”
“Oh, no. Everyone knows who I am. I am Raemond. They all know who I am. And, they’ll come looking for me. They will,” he said.
Devarius scoffed. “Yeah. I imagine everyone does know you, but I don’t imagine they’d care if you showed back up. So, tell me,” Devarius said. “If one of us were to have the certificate, would they would just let us have the dragon instead?”
“Well, no. That certificate is for me only, and no other Raemonds are allowed.”
“Oh, well.” Devarius withdrew a long dagger from his sash. “I guess that settles it then. No more Raemonds there will be.”
“Wait!” Tears brimmed in the man’s eyes. He sniffled. “You can … you can have the certificate. I never wanted to be a dragonrider anyway. It was all my father’s idea.”
“Oh, is that so?” Devarius asked.
Raemond hung his head in shame. “Yeah … I want to be a cook.”
“A cook?” Devarius raised his brow.
“Yes, I’ve always loved mixing ingredients. Herbs, cooking over a fire. But father says it’s peasants’ work, women’s work … slave’s work. But I don’t care. I want to cook.”
Devarius grinned. “Well, that settles it. We’ll take the certificate from you. And you can cook one excellent meal tomorrow, after we leave. But until then, I’m afraid we can’t trust you.”
“What … what are you going to do with me?” Raemond asked.
“Well, since you’ve been a good sport about all of this, I guess, we can keep you alive.”
“Well, that’s a relief. For a moment there, I was worr—”
Devarius slammed the rock into his head again. He watched as Raemond fell to the ground. He looked at the two others. “Well, who wants to get a dragon tomorrow?”
Derkas raised his brows. “I suppose that’ll be me. I don’t imagine either one of you would make a very convincing Raemond.”
“No, perhaps not,” Devarius said.
“So?” Zaviana asked. “What are we going to do with this man?”
Devarius laid the rock on the ground. He lifted the man up and opened the wardrobe. “Well, he can’t stay on this floor, and he can’t go telling anyone about us either. It’s a good thing we brought some rope.”
24
Lilianya opened her eyes as glimmers of the red sunlight descended from the sky. She looked around, unsure of where she was. Then the memories started to come back and she gasped, frantically looking around. She did not know where she was at. She did not know where any of her companions were. Lilianya was alone.
The memories from the night before came in patches. She remembered seeing the large dragon-like creatures without wings. She remembered them attacking. She remembered fighting and doing her best to save all of her companions. She remembered two others who stayed with her to help fight, and then she remembered running. She’d run all night, unsure where to go. Her legs had grown tired and her mind had grown weary, but she’d continued on. Lilianya never stopped. She never stopped running. But apparently she had, because now she awoke with her back against a tree.
There didn’t seem to be any creatures around her, and for that, she was grateful. However, that didn't mean the creatures were far away. She wondered what happened to the two others who were with her. Lilianya hoped they’d made it. She did her best to stand, but her legs trembled. Her calves ached; her thighs ached; her whole body ached. She held onto the tree for support, but as
she looked, she saw no one. Around her was wilderness: trees, dead leaves on the ground, brown dirt. Deafening silence surrounded her. Not a single creature could be heard around her.
Lilianya didn't see any animals or insects, and there was absolute silence. It unnerved her, and she wondered if her ears still worked as she leaned against the tree, her shoulder pressing deep, feeling the impressions of the bark. She clapped her hands. Lilianya heard the claps and heaved a sigh of relief. She wasn’t deaf, but that raised another uncomfortable question. Where was everyone? Not just her companions, and not just the dragonoids, but where were the animals and insects? Had the land dragons driven them away, or was there another reason they were hiding? Were they afraid of her? Surely that could not be true.
She scanned her surroundings, trying to find a camp, trying to find something, anything. Lilianya searched for some kind of indication her companions had made it. Lilianya recollected nothing about leaning against the tree the night before. The last thing she remembered was running. Yet, there she was, alone, afraid, scared, and completely lost. She tried to judge her direction by the sun. It was low on the horizon to her left. It had to be early, as it wasn’t too warm yet.
At least an inch of snow covered the ground, though it didn’t cover it everywhere, as she saw patches of dirt and snow. At least some of the snow had likely been blocked by the leaves up above. Still, it was cold. Lilianya didn’t like the Red Winter. It was called the Red Winter for several reasons. One of the reasons being how only the red sun could be seen throughout the entire winter. But the other reason was because of the implied meaning behind the color red. Red was gloomy, sad, and lifeless. That was exactly what winter was like—it was lifeless.
But still, there should have been something, some kind of animal scurrying, a squirrel or a chipmunk climbing a tree, searching for acorns. But again, that was back home, back on Kaeldroga, near Saefron and mountains, near any city or village on Kaeldroga. But Lilianya didn’t know how many creatures or insects were on Adeth Peak Isle. Of course they’d seen insects in the city, a few animals, and some small rodents here and there, but for the most part—compared to the large land of Kaeldroga—animal life was pretty scarce. The wyverns seemed to survive primarily on a fish diet, as the ocean provided a vast amount of fish. Still, something didn’t feel right. And so she stood, pushing away from the tree that she leaned her weight against, and she tried to walk a few steps. She only made it three before collapsing on the ground on her rear end.
Dragonia- Dragonia Empire series Box Set Page 46