Kingdom of Dragons (Kingdom Series Book 2)

by Anna St George

  The man turned and looked at him like he was crazy. “This is a damn good horse!”

  Pagett shook his head as he dismounted his horse and headed down the track and he thought about it all the way down. The man’s words, this is a damn good horse echoed in his mind. It was for certain that there were some he would admit to leaving on the side of that cliff and saving his horse instead. Some animals were far more loyal and respected than some men he knew, like Luther Wyvern for instance. “The Duke? Would I have left him hanging?” he asked himself. “Would I?”

  He was thankful as he reached the bottom of the track and he patted his horse on the neck and hopped on. “Yes, definitely. I would have saved the horse,” he confirmed. The he slightly kicked the horse and rode off. He rode all that night until he reached Blackstone Castle and he went straight to visit with a man who knew could help him with his mission. He was a man most people would avoid at all costs. He was a loyal supporter of the Duke of Redforte also known as the Black Dragon, Sir Wolf Ulric.

  Chapter Ten

  Blackstone Castle

  1 I beheld, and the same horn

  made war with the saints,

  and prevailed against them

  Blackstone Castle was a busy affair as it had been for centuries. It was located at a port in the south of England with incoming and outgoing goods. There were several workers in the courtyard moving about; guards, and servants, and even an entertainer and as Sir Simon was greeted inside by servants he could hear the weeping sound of a lyre. It was a dark and eerie place like Dragon’s Gate and Pagett hated Sir Wolf Ulric for various reasons. Firstly he was just as the name said, a cunning and devious wolf who would devour anyone in his way. No one was safe around him, not even his own family. Secondly he was a hypocrite and would never keep his word. He simply could not be trusted. He was as vain as a peacock, one of those men who believed he was God’s gift to women. Yes, Pagett could not stand the sight of him.

  Sir Wolf never saw Pagett enter the hall that day as there was lots of laughter and his attention was engaged in the company of Lord Spelthorne. Lord Spelthorne was attentive to finer dress than his friend with fine silks and lots of rings on his hands. Simon noticed straight away that Sir Wolf was in his usual mode of dress, a leather jerkin and breeches with a chunky silver chain on his neck and a silver ring in one ear. He was a rough neck type of fellow. In Pagett’s opinion, he lacked intelligence but he would keep his true character secret to new comers and then pounce on them unexpectedly. Thus his nickname, Wolf. He looked up at Simon and grinned sourly.

  “Sir Wolf,” said Pagett in the most pleasant tone he could manage.

  “Simon Pagett. What the hell are you doing here? I thought someone like you would be eating crumbs off their Master’s table.”

  “I don’t eat crumbs,” he replied.

  “Coulda fooled me,” said Wolf slyly and he laughed. “So what is it you want?”

  “Well, now that you ask,” said Simon. “I was sent here by the Duke.”

  Wolf laughed. “Like I said before, eating crumbs from your Master’s table.”

  Simon rolled his eyes. He was losing his patience already and he had only just arrived. “Look, I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here but the Duke sent me and so . . . here I am.”

  “What the hell do you want? Hurry up and spit it out. I’m a busy man. I have parties to attend to,” he laughed and he winked at the pretty lass standing next to him and Pagett noticed.

  “So, where is the Lady of Blackstone Castle?” he asked looking around. Lady Ulric was the only pleasant thing about Blackstone Castle. Even though she was the Duke’s sister, she was kind and caring and a beautiful light in any dark room. Many would wonder why such a delicate flower would be married to someone like Wolf but Pagett knew for a fact her brother, the Duke of Redforte had forced the marriage.

  “She’s gone to visit a friend, her and the boy.” Pagett found it odd that Wolf referred to his own son as the boy. He was no longer a boy but a young man and Paget had met the boy briefly on one of his trips; a pleasant young man and nothing like Wolf thank goodness. “So why the hell are you here?”

  “The Royal Order of the Knights have returned and they are riding throughout the towns and villages of England announcing King Edward’s return.”

  That got Wolf’s attention and he stood to his feet. “Bloody hell. What’s being done about this?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” he said smartly. “Apparently you and I are going stop them.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. Me and you, a team?”

  Simon smiled and nodded. “Apparently.”

  “You better not give me any trouble, Pagett.” said Wolf. “Or it’ll be the last time we work together. In fact it’ll be the last time you work with anyone. I’ll never forgive you for marrying Wilhemina Hanscombe and running off to that hole in the forest you call home. She wouldn’t have died if you hadn’t taken her there. The Hanscombes were good friend of the family.

  “That’s not why she died!” said Pagett taking a step closer in agitation.

  “I’m sick of your excuses,” said Wolf and he stood to his feet and walked out from behind the table.

  “I’m sick of your accusations,” said Pagett and he moved a step closer. They were now facing each other and they were both red faced and flagrant. Spelthorne raised the apple in his hand as he glanced from one to the other. He barely got the apple to his lips when suddenly there were fists flying, dishes smashing to the floor and servants yelling. They swung at each other fiercely and rolled over the table onto the floor and taking half of its contents with them. They rolled around slamming at each other like two youngsters in a brawl.

  “For goodness sake,” said Spelthorne standing to his feet and brushing debris off his trousers. “Will you two grow up and act like men! There’s work to be done!”

  They pulled themselves up off the floor brushing dirt and debris and Wolf licked his wounds and smiled. “Welcome, to my humble abode Pagett. It’s good to see ya. What is the Duke’s request?

  “He wants us to stop the word spreading of King Edward’s return. He wants the allegiance of all the people in the seven kingdoms.”

  “Doesn’t everyone,” he replied sarcastically. “I suppose we’ll have to use force, and intimidation, perhaps burn a few villages. Anything else?”

  “And do you know anything about the sword of Cadwallader?”

  “It ain’t been seen for years and that’s if it still exists or ever existed. Some believe it was just a legend. Why?”

  “And he wants us to find a dragon and the sword if it still exists.”

  “A dragon? Did I hear you right? You mean one of those extra-large reptilian types with the fiery breath?”

  “Yes, you heard me right. A dragon,” said Pagett rolling his eyes in unbelief. “And the Earl of Dinefwr. He wants him brought back to Dragon’s Gate.”

  Wolf pulled a knife out of his pocket and threw it at a target on the wall. “We best be going then. Dragons can be hard to catch.”

  Pagett looked surprised when he didn’t get the reaction he expected for it was almost as if Wolf knew something he didn’t and he followed along after Wolf wondering how on earth they were going to find a dragon let alone catch one. As far as he was concerned dragons did not exist. This was going to be an interesting wild goose chase as far as he was concerned.

  The small town of Grimsby was located in the Southwest of England isolated by the sea on one side and a forest on the other. It was a settlement of fishers and men of the timber trade and women who were skilled at weaving. It was a quiet peaceful town, strong supporters of King Edward. It was early evening when the storm had been unleashed. The fishermen were making their way up the hillside with their day’s catch, blacksmith’s were closing up shop, and the town pub was a lively affair with music and the sound of ale being consumed. Songs were sung and as an old woman swept the cobblestones of her front path the blast of a trumpet was heard. The
woman paused and listened to the sound that vibrated the forest and there was a penetrating thundering noise that followed and she looked up to the hills around the town and she saw the shapes of horses and riders heading towards them. The broom fell from her hand and she ran through the village yelling the alarm. They were under siege!

  Within minutes, houses were aflame, and the townspeople had now moved into the streets to defend themselves but a powerful army of men on horse engulfed them. Arrows were shot forth, swords clashed, and the town was easily forced to its knees. “What do you want?” asked the town mayor.

  Ulric looked down at him and grinned. “Your allegiance to the Duke of Redforte or should I say King Luther.”

  “What?” said the mayor and the people of the town were all perplexed.

  “Your allegiance!” he repeated firmly and it was at that moment the mayor noticed Simon Pagett on his horse beside Wolf Ulric. He had become acquainted with Pagett as he often stopped in their village on his travels. He seemed a quiet and decent young man. What was he doing with Ulric?

  “You’re Simon Pagett? What are you doing with him?

  “Why don’t you keep your mouth shut,” said Ulric as he held the blade of his sword against the mayor’s neck. “I believe he knows what he’s doing. Isn’t that right Pagett?”

  Simon Pagett turned slowly. “Yes of course. I know what I’m doing. All hail King Luther!”

  “Then God have mercy on you,” said the mayor. “May he open your blind eyes and show you the truth.”

  Ulric laughed at that statement. “So you have a choice people of the town of Grimsby. You can bow the knee to the new king Luther or you can die under the name of King Edward!”

  Many dropped to their knees but the mayor and a couple of others were steadfast and remained standing. Ulric grinned at them callously. “For your rebelliousness for refusing to kneel you will all be hung.”

  There were gasps from the crowd and the mayor nodded in agreement. “All hail king Edward, the rightful king! And may God have mercy on you.”

  It was the following morning that Pagett and Ulric arrived in a larger town and addressed a crowd of hopeful peasants. Eagar eyes looked up in a weary crowd. The king had been gone so long. He said he would return and they had all put their hope and faith in him. Where was he? This faithful king? Was he indeed still alive and fighting on their behalf for the sake of freedom and all they believed in or was he nothing more than a legend to be placed on the shelf alongside those who had gone and fought before them?

  Ulric forced a smile at the crowd and Pagett cringed at the sight of his false smile with all its deceitful pride and arrogance. They were deceiving a crowd, a nation of people from knowing the truth. But what was the truth Pagett wondered. He wasn’t even sure what he believed but he knew that the Duke of Redforte was not the answer for his kingdom’s troubles. There had to be a better way.

  “Here ye, peoples of the land. I come to you today in all truth and holiness,” he smiled again. “I know how you have suffered these few years. King Edward has been gone a long time now and hope is failing of his return. You are all weary and in need of reassurance of the future of this kingdom. And I tell you with all truthfulness that the Duke of Redforte shares your concerns. He is ready to make amends for time lost in the kingdom. Edward’s time is finished. He is not coming back, but I tell you of one who is faithful and committed to the concerns of this kingdom. Luther Wyvern knows what you suffer. He will make sure this kingdom is put right again. Make your allegiance with him and you won’t regret it. He will uphold this kingdom and defeat its enemies.”

  Pagett glanced at him uneasily for he knew they were deceiving the masses. Why did it suddenly bother him so? He had been doing this sort of work for the Duke for a while now without any second thoughts. But this wasn’t just about doing the Duke’s dirty work. It was far more than that. He was indeed a lawbreaker, a man of perdition and they were about to unleash a tempest on the King’s City and the whole kingdom for that matter. The life and freedom everyone had would never be the same again.

  That evening the regent passed away and Luther Wyvern stepped forward to declare the throne was his. He stood in the square that night before a crowd of onlookers and smiled sweetly and he spoke with pleasantness. “It grieves me to inform you all that The Duke of Wexford passed away last night.”

  There were gasps and mumblings in the crowd. “And it also grieves me deeply to announce that the rumours you’ve all been hearing from the holy land are true. Our beloved king Edward has been killed in battle and will not be returning. I therefore see it as my duty to take up this vacant seat on the throne and restore the kingdoms of England to wholeness and unity. Let us rebuild the areas that have been ravaged by wars for so long,” he smiled forcibly. But the Duke of Redforte had a charismatic way about him and many were blinded by his gentle-like manner. “Let us begin by rebuilding the ruins of St John’s Cathedral” The crowd cheered wildly for it was a treasured place of worship that had been built by the kings of old but it had been devastated in an early war of Viking Invasions and to this day it lie in ruins but now the promise of rebuilding this sanctuary was like a dream. “Let us also pursue peace within the seven kingdoms of the Isles. It has been too long we have warred. Let us of be of one order, one kingdom under God,” he smiled again and the people cheered. He turned towards his aid and softly whispered. “I told you it wouldn’t take much to win them over. A little flattery, a few lies. They’ll be eating out of my hand.”

  “Of course, your grace,” said Payne.

  “You’re a fake!” someone yelled out. The crowd began to bicker and quarrel. Some were for the Duke and others still supported a king that had been a gone a long time, a king believed to be dead.

  Riots broke out and any disputes were quickly resolved with a sword. Surrounding towns and villages were stampeded with armies of knights on horseback enforcing the Duke’s reign and demanding allegiance to him and those who refused quickly faced the sword. The city was turned to utter chaos but in this bleak darkness, a new light of hope was dawning. The promised return of King Edward was fervent in the hearts of a remnant.

  Chapter Eleven

  Adair Castle

  Lady Ceridwyn was a young woman of exceptional beauty and elegance. She always looked like a queen and was always ready for an important engagement. With the face that could launch a thousand ships and a figure blessed by God himself she was considered a catch worth her weight in gold. Long red tresses layered over her shoulders and down her back in soft waves. Misty blue eyes were always sweet and forgiving. Her temperament was one of calmness and caring. Anyone who met her loved her straight away for she was very sweet and lovely and she was one who was ever so forgiving of the human nature.

  Only the month prior she had been won in a tournament by the honourable Artemis Munro on behalf of his brother, Sir Fingal Munro, heir of the Munro clan of Inverness. She left behind all of her loved ones and Sir Gregory Dorrigen, that one man that had so thrilled a venerable spark deep inside her. Dorrigen was a young knight who had captured the hearts of many women, young and old, rich and poor by his tantalizing sweet manner and exceptional good looks. The unbeaten noble knight, Sir Gregory of Tamworth had been beaten by the unknown highlander, Artemis Munro. It was pure luck that Artemis had won, and even Ceridwyn knew this. It vexed her to think that had Sir Gregory entered the tournament field a few minutes earlier or later the catastrophe which ousted him from his horse may have been avoided but that was not the case, and history had been recorded that day. The second daughter of Lord Godwyn, the Earl of Northumbria, the one noted all over the Isles for being a ravishing beauty had been won by the most unlikely opponent, a young man with no tournament skill. It played over and over in her mind, like a nightmare.

  She had traveled from her hometown of Berwyck all the way to the port of Inverness by boat escorted by Artemis Munro and his cousin Michael and Robin Tulloch. Ceridwyn thought at times they would never get there for the
journey had been rough and unsettling very much like her own feelings which wrestled inside her like a tempest. It was a stormy ride and it seemed as if the ocean were at odds with them with gusty winds and monstrous swells and they had to take shelter on shore a few times. It was a journey she could have easily forgone. The farmhouse they stayed at one intrepid evening was a strange place. Inhabited by an unlikely woman and her two children, Ceridwyn thought it homely but strange. The wind beat against it with ingratitude at times, shaking the walls and rattling the shutters. Ceridwyn said very little as she kept her shawl tightly around her and sipped her broth quietly by the fire while Artemis and the others helped the farm woman chop firewood. The two children who were about ten and twelve stared at her pensively.

  Ceridwyn smiled back warmly and the children’s mother came in the room with an arm full of wood and dropped it by the fire. “Stop staring at her for goodness sake! I’m sorry mi’lady. This weather has them bedraggled. And it’s not often we have a visitor as fine as yourself.”

  “That’s quite alright,” said Ceridwyn. “They’ve done me no injury.”

  “Where are you headin by the way? It’s not exactly the best weather to be travelin in, especially a fine lady such as yourself and all. Me own mother used to say travelin in such weather is an omen. Best to stay put,” she emphasized as she stacked the wood neatly.

  “We’re heading to Inverness. Adair Castle and I don’t believe in omens.”

  “Really?” Said the woman in a troubled tone.

  “I’m on my way to meet my new husband. I am to wed Sir Fingal Munro who will one day inherit his Father’s title of the Earl of Inverness.”