Onyx Dragon (Book 1) Read Free Page A

to say. Perhaps my brother, the seer, can provide some answers. He is very wise, and can commune with the Dragon himself. The Dragon may be able to shed some light on this mystery.”
    She paused for a moment, remembering the seer’s ability to receive visions from physical objects.
    “Did you find anything that could have belonged to the attackers?” she asked. “It may help if he were able to hold something that belonged to one of them.”
    Wrothgaar stood, reaching into his pack. He then produced a small leather pouch.
    “I have this,” he said. “I do not know what is in it, but the markings are in a language I do not recognize, if they are a language at all.”
    Eamon reached out to receive the item, looking it over carefully before handing it to his mother. She studied the pouch for a moment, her brow furrowing in uncertainty.
    “These markings are strange,” she agreed. “My brother will definitely want to see this. If this is a human tongue, then he will recognize it. He may also know what it is inside.”
    “It’s some kind of pungent herb,” Wrothgaar explained. “But it is something I have never seen.”
    Siobhan opened the pouch, pouring some of the herb out into her palm.
    Garret was the first to suggest its identity. “It looks like tobacco,” he said. “My father smoked it in his pipe. It is fairly common on the mainland, though. Not many answers there, I would imagine.”
    “No,” the Queen said, putting the herb back into the pouch. “But the writings will be telling.” She handed it to Garret, who stuffed it into his tunic.
    “I will take this to Maedoc,” Garret said.
    “Thank you, my love,” the Queen said. “As soon as he finds some answers, I will come to him.”
    Eamon sat finally, taking a seat closer to Wrothgaar. “Tell me of your decision to seek our help,” he said.
    Wrothgaar sipped his wine again. “I volunteered to make the journey,” he said. “Most of our warriors do not have the verbal skills to speak with royalty. They are crude and uncivilized. They are warriors, nothing more. I have experience socializing with nobility.”
    “And your father approved?” Eamon asked.
    “He had no choice. He is sick with fever. He cannot speak, and our shaman does not know if he will survive. His illness is why I chose to come here for aid. I am not able to lead the tribes in battle myself.”
    Siobhan interrupted, “If he passes, will you become King?”
    “Not necessarily,” Wrothgaar answered immediately. “I must still defeat any contenders in combat to the death.”
    “Interesting,” Eamon remarked. “How many contenders are there?”
    “Only one that I know of. Cerdic, Son of Ceor the Mighty.”
    “Can you best him?” the Prince asked.
    “Likely,” Wrothgaar said. “But if I had a choice, I would prefer not to. He is a mighty warrior, and in these times, the loss of such a great warrior would be hard on our people. Losing my father will be bad enough.”
    “I am sorry to hear that Ulrich is ill, Wrothgaar,” the Queen stated. “Since he is unable to lead the tribe on a search, I will offer any assistance I can. When my brother discovers the identity of the attackers, I will dispatch whatever aid is necessary.”
    “I thank you,” Wrothgaar said. “And we would be honored to have your cooperation.”
    Siobhan smiled, recalling the many scuffles the two peoples had engaged in previously, relieved that the lasting standoff may finally come to an end. “Our enmity ended long ago, Wrothgaar, and in light of recent events, we must consider the need to join forces.”
    “Agreed. I will accept that offer. I speak for my own tribe, but I will have some trouble convincing the others to accept.”
    “What will you have to do?” Eamon asked.
    Wrothgaar firmly placed his goblet on the table. “Unite them,” he said. “It is the only way. But I can only do that if I were King. This is why I ask for your help.”
    “Very well,” Siobhan said. “I will