The Dragonswarm Read Free Page A

talk of marriage. Of course it was. But I wasn't at all surprised by her initiative. She was the bravest soul I'd ever met. Injured but unscarred, informed but unafraid. I wanted that. I wanted her, and far more for the spirit, for the perspective, than for the comfort and the kindness she could offer.
    She led me to the stables and requested two riding horses and two pack animals to lead. The stable master sent boys scurrying to fetch the horses even as servants began arriving in ones and twos with gear for our journey. Isabelle watched it all with an air of satisfaction, and I just stood watching her. A man could build a life around a woman like that.
    But first there was the king. And then the dragons, too. Six weeks in Teelevon, and we must have heard sixty new rumors from the north. Mighty serpents swarmed the quiet seas, they said, and ships weren't safe to sail. Dragons flew the skies at night, they said, and whole cities were burned to ash by dawn. We heard a hundred different versions of Tirah's burning or the capitol's. Of the King's Guard defeated or the wizards at the Academy. Of the world overwhelmed by dragon hordes.
    They sounded nothing like truth, but I knew there was some core to it. I'd met a dragon firsthand, and I'd seen half a dozen more with my own eyes. Tirah had been attacked, and the King's Guard with it. And those who knew of such things had assured me worse was coming. The dragons were waking.
    I swallowed hard and kept my eyes fixed on the woman before me. It would be no easy task to build a life we two could share. But she turned to say, "That should do quite well. We'll be on the road within the hour." When she caught me staring, she gave me a curious little smile, and I knew I had to try. I would find a way.
    It started with keeping her safe. If the baron was right, that meant keeping her away from the ruins of Palmagnes. As she led me back to her father's study, I fought not to think how much gentler my exile would be with her at my side.
    We stepped into the study, and it all fled my mind at the sight of the sword in her father's hands. Cold steel, burnished with age but carrying an edge that shone from constant care. The baron stood in the center of the room, sword's tip grounded between him and us, hands crossed easily on its pommel. His stance was relaxed, but I recognized danger in it. Readiness. His expression was grave.
    Three men stood behind him, all just as serious. One was the chief steward of the baron's household. Another was Thomas Wheelwright, a friend of the Eliades and an esteemed name in the community. And there on the end was the barony's Kind Father, dressed in the rich formal robes of the Benevolent Priests. All among them met my gaze with level, measuring looks. None among them gave me any confidence.
    For one long, dreadful moment I stood staring at the blade and remembering my every crime. Then Isabelle squeezed my hand and whispered in my ear, "Step forward, Sir Knight."

2. Fort Palmagnes
    I knelt before the baron. The three witnesses shifted closer behind him, but I fixed my eyes on the point of the sword where it scarred the polished wood of the study's floor. The edge looked flawless.
    "Daven of Terrailles, son of Carrick," the baron began in ceremonious tones, "do you come here with greed or malice in your heart?"
    My mouth was dry, my throat tight, but I managed to find my voice enough to ask, "Here, my lord?"
    "To the Eliade Barony," he said. "To the land and people under my care." He maintained the formal tone. "Do you mean them any harm?"
    My answer came clear and easy at that. "No, my lord. Never."
    He gave a grunt in response, then asked, "Daven of Terrailles, son of Carrick, do you come here under loyalty to any man save the king or his appointments?"
    I swallowed hard at that. I thought of the rebels, and of their wizard leader who had offered me a place of power among his ranks. He'd asked only that I kill the king.
    And I'd had the power to do it. The