Our food was whatever stores that the Dragon Academy had to provision us with – which was actually a marked improvement from the supplies that my warband had, walking out of the Plains. There were flatbreads and cured meats, dried fruits, cheese halves, and strange wrapped parcels of meat and vegetables wrapped in a thick, bready sort of crust. Okay, I had to concede that they were tasty. The dragons, in that dragon way, forgot their woes by diving into the fast-flowing rivers for fish and scraping up great handfuls of river-plants which floated along the shallows. Ymmen seemed pleased to be feasting, and it took no little time to fill his belly before we took to the skies once again.
But now, as the light of the afternoon was growing old and even Ymmen was starting to tire, that Dragon Rider escort ahead of us was doing that strange little circling flight and flaring-wing thing.
“I think he wants us to land?” Tamin asked, and I turned to see that he was looking just as confused as I was. I shrugged my shoulders.
“Don’t know why his dragon couldn’t just tell Ymmen,” I said, before getting Ymmen’s direct answer.
“Because that dragon thinks his scales are always stronger, and that his hunt is always better than any others!” Ymmen said with a flame of irritation to his words. It seemed like even dragons could have awkward snobs amongst them, I thought.
The sun was lowering itself to purple as we were directed to the spot that the Dragon Rider (and Commander Haval, I thought) had decided was a good place to land. It didn’t look like the Ring of Grom – although the mountains were high and dark ahead of us, the hollow of rocky outcrops didn’t form a perfect ring, and there was no pit or lake that Master Johannes had described.
Still, not a bad place, I thought, seeing how the three outcrops of granite seemed to shelter a grassy area.
“No water,” Ymmen informed me though with a low grumble in the back of my mind, and I kicked myself for not thinking about that myself. I promised Ymmen that I would find some for him as the indicating dragon raised itself above us as we circled down, and Ymmen had to beat his wings quite furiously to be able to land in such a tight spot.
“Maybe not such a great space after all,” I thought, especially when I noticed that only three of the five total dragons could fit into the space after us, with the remaining two having to perch on the outcrops above.
“We’re camping for the night?” Tamin asked, as I shrugged that I didn’t know, before sliding off the back of the dragon to land with a heavy thump on the ground. I lay my hand on Ymmen’s warm scales, promising him that I would find water, just as Abioye dropped down to the earth behind me.
“Where’s the commander?” Abioye asking loudly, as Montfre and Tamin also landed on the ground of the green sward.
“We’re setting up the cook tent!” One of the Dragon Riders pointed to the narrower gap between two outcrops, while two more were carrying their canvas hold-alls out and around the corner. “No room to set up the tents with the dragons in here!” he explained, jogging on ahead.
“Why they can’t have chosen a nice open pasture, I have no idea,” I grumbled, looking up to see that the evening star was already growing brighter over our heads. There was no sign of clouds or rain – it would be cold tonight, but we’d have no need of cover for the dragons, I knew. Just a large bonfire would suffice, for all of us.
But that was the way of it, wasn’t it? I groaned. These Torvald Dragon Riders – as fierce and as well-trained as they were, were still city-folk at the end of the day. They probably only thought in terms of shelter and cover, and keeping as much of the wild as far away as they could…
I had half-turned around the rocky outcrop walls, and was just about to make this joke to Tamin beside me when the hairs on the back of my neck suddenly shot upwards.
What?
I heard a movement of wings, and a rushing sound like the wind through the golden-hair trees of the Plains—
“RARGH! What are you doing!?” Ymmen roared in that moment in the back of my mind, his anger and shock pushing through me like a wave of brush fire.
“Ymmen!” I turned, and saw a terrible sight – my great friend was struggling in the heavy tendrils and knots of a thrown net – each connection weighted with what looked to be heavy iron globes—
“Get off him!” I demanded, already turning in place and sprinting forward, just as there was a shout, and one of the Dragon Riders – one I hadn’t noticed before – stepped out from the shadows of the rocky outcrop beside me, his short bow taut and already pointing a black arrow directly at my chest.
“Don’t move if you want to live!” the Dragon Rider growled, and I skidded to a halt, ending inches away from the tip of the bow. If the Rider got angry, or nervous, then he would kill me in less time that it would take for a heart to beat.
“Calm your dragon down,” the Rider grunted, as behind me came the startled shouts of outrage from Abioye, Montfre, and Tamin as they, too, were surrounded by the treacherous Riders.
“What is the meaning of this!” Abioye shouted hotly, daring to step forward and force the Rider aiming his bow at him to prod him in the chest with the arrow tip. Abioye, Inyene D’Lia’s younger brother, glared at the menacing Rider guard, daring him to fire.
“I will loose my fire on all of them! Ymmen the Great will never be held by cattle!” Ymmen roared, as thin plumes of black smoke started to escape between his gnashing fangs.
“Ymmen! Abioye!” I shouted, my own frustration and anger welling up in me, but held in check by my sudden fear for my friend’s safety—at least for the moment. I knew that Ymmen’s fire would eat through the ropes as fast and as sudden as a knife moving through goat milk – but the iron ingots would only melt onto his scales and wings—
“A little scalding will not hurt Ymmen the Black!” the dragon roared.
No, but it might weigh your wings down! I countered, suddenly seeing why this net of the Dragon Riders was so effective. “Hold,” I breathed out loud to Ymmen, my heart in my throat. “Please, hold…”
And despite the iron-studded net, there were still the two other dragons of the Dragon Riders perched on the edges of the outcrop above us, and both similarly had smoke pluming from their mouths. Ymmen, me, Abioye and the others were all directly in their firing line.
“Get your commander here to explain this, right now!” Abioye growled, his eyes sparking. I suddenly saw the fierce, passionate strength inside of him that was somehow echoed in the stern determination of his sister – but had none of her coldness.
“This is Torvald land, my land, Abioye,” called a voice – the voice of Commander Haval – as he marched into view, waiting at the entrance of the rocks, with two more of the Dragon Riders standing beside him, their swords drawn. In response, the tip of Montfre’s greenwood staff started to glow a white radiance, shot through with blue rays…
“You may take us – but it will be costly for you,” Montfre hissed.
“Perhaps,” the commander said, staying where he was, at a distance large enough to allow him and his guards to dive out of the way if need be. It was clear that they had planned this well before we had arrived. They had stashed the net here, after all… I thought, as my own worry started to fizz as my eyes throbbed with pain and a buzzing sound rose in my ears. The sound of the Stone Crown, clamoring for justice.