Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton) (18 page)

Kyle gasped. “Alive? The King is still alive?”

Theo nodded. “Are you interested?”

Kyle studied Theo’s face a moment then extended a large hand. “I’d be honored if you’d let me sire!”

***

By the next day Theo had added a fair number of supporters to his list, some were friends of Kyle but most were servants from the palace. One of them was a large, boisterous cook who insisted her entire staff wanted to see Tirate thrown to the dragons. He couldn’t help but smile as he sat in the back of the tavern sipping water and waiting for the next meeting. It seemed Tirate wasn’t very popular with most of the palace staff and was apparently unaware that he needed them for things to run smoothly. Without staff, life in a palace that size could be quite uncomfortable.

Kyle came out of the kitchen and smiled. “I just brought two more visitors upstairs to the room adjacent to yours. They were sent from the cook.”

Theo nodded and headed up the stairs. As a precautionary measure everyone was sent to the room next to his where he could listen to their conversation through the walls. It was far too dangerous now to take a chance on being caught when he was so close to finding the dragon.

He slipped into his room and pressed an ear against the wall. As the voices drifted through he could tell one was an older man, the other a boy or perhaps a young man. The older man was talking, something about shedding and, dragons? He continued to listen but the two men had gone quiet. He waited a few more minutes and decided to take a chance. He tucked a knife in his belt behind his back as a precaution. There was no way to be absolutely sure which side they were on, so it was better to be prepared.

Silently he slipped into the hallway and threw open the door of their room. With one quick step he entered and slammed the door shut behind him. He barely had time to recognize Shane’s startled face before a golden bolt struck him hard in the chest and sent him reeling. He dropped to his knees and gasped as he tried to force air back into his lungs. Within moments Shane was helping him to his feet and laughing in near hysterics.

Theo collapsed into a chair still wheezing and gasping and found himself staring face to face with the dragon he’d thought dead and the two men he’d come to rescue. Between gasps he started to
chuckle.

Shane pulled a chair up beside him and heartily pounded his back.

“He may be small, but he’s fast! Unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

Theo nodded in agreement. “Me neither.” He rubbed his chest with one hand and grimaced. There would be quite a bruise there. “I came back to steal it from Tirate and, if possible, free you and the boy. This however, is not what I expected!”

Shane grinned and winked at Ammon. “Well, we’re certainly grateful for all your efforts, but as you can see, we already have things well in hand.”

***

Tirate awoke with a screaming headache. He forced his swollen eyes open and brought his hand to his temples to find his head tightly wrapped in bandages. Several attendants hovered over him and protested when he tried to sit up. Searing pain enveloped him from head to toe, and he gingerly lay back down again with a muffled groan.

He snarled. “What happened? Tell me now, or I’ll have you flogged! I'll have all of you flogged!”

The attendants backed up meekly, and Tirate’s personal guard stepped forward.

“Sire, you were alone in the room when we heard you scream. By the time we entered, we found you lying on the floor with most of your clothes in tatters. Beside you was your sword…what was left of your sword that is. We found only a few shards of metal and the pommel. The dragon…uh, your dragon, was still in the room after it attacked you. Sire, it…shredded…all of your armor and everything in the room! We tried catching the beast, but I'm afraid it got past us. It put five men in the infirmary; at least one isn’t likely to pull through. I have doubts the others will be returning to service…ever.”

Tirate’s bloodshot eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Where is it now? Where is my dragon?”

The guard lowered his eyes. “It broke through the prison doors and attacked the guards there. It appears to have released the boy and one other prisoner escaped with him. We’ve secured the gates and are searching the city now. Sire, how are we to stop such a creature?”

Tirate started to grit his teeth only to find several missing, had the dragon spared any part of him? “Give me a mirror!”

An attendant handed him a small mirror and he grabbed it impatiently. He looked at his reflection and gasped. His nose was broken and both eyes were swollen and black. Most of his hair was gone, and his ears were bandaged. He threw the mirror violently, and it crashed against the wall sending splinters of glass everywhere. In anger, he slammed his fist into the bed and a flurry of feathers shot into the air. As the feathers drifted down like snowflakes, he suddenly realized the condition of his quarters. The mattress was shredded, as were the pillows. Every curtain, rug, and piece of furniture he could see lay tattered or in pieces. The dragon had completely destroyed his entire chambers; every stitch of clothing and every personal object he owned!

***

It wasn’t going to be easy getting to the city gate with Tirate’s men looking for them, and neither Theo nor Shane could agree on the best plan. Ammon quietly contented himself by plucking loose scales from Fulgid while the two men talked. Suddenly the little dragon’s head popped up and focused his attention on the door. Theo motioned for them to be silent as he slipped the knife out from his belt and moved beside the door. There was a soft tap at the door, and it opened just wide enough for the bald head of the innkeeper to cautiously peer into the room.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but you didn’t come down for your meal.”

Relieved, Theo sheathed his knife and invited the man in with a wave of his hand. The innkeeper quickly waddled in, carrying a large wicker basket and froze, mouth gaping at the sight of the golden dragon sprawled across Ammon’s lap. His jowls swung back and forth as his head turned, looking at Shane and Theo, then back at the dragon.

“A dragon! A real live dragon! In my inn! I never thought I’d see the day! And such an unusual color too!”

Visibly excited, he bent down in front of Ammon. “Could I…touch him?”

Ammon nodded, and the man’s chubby hand gently stroked Fulgid’s neck. Several loose scales dropped to the floor, clinking like coins. Kyle picked one up with his thick fingers and eyed it with awe.

“Sire, if you would be so inclined, please, I would be greatly honored if you would bestow one of these on me?”

Ammon shrugged his shoulders. There was already a fairly good-sized pile of them next to him and he hadn’t really thought about what he’d do with them. “Yes, of course you can.”

Theo buried his forehead in his hands and groaned softly while Shane rolled his eyes and turned to the window shaking his head.

Kyle’s broad face broke into the largest smile Ammon had ever seen on a man. “Thank you, sire! Oh thank you! You won’t regret it, I promise!”

Jumping to his feet, he stuffed the little scale into his shirt pocket and handed the basket to Shane. “I thought you might want some food for traveling tonight. I noticed when you came you had not much more than the clothes on your back.” Looking back at the dragon he beamed. “However, it seems you had much more than I ever imagined!”

Kyle bowed slightly to Ammon and patted the scale in his pocket. “Thank you, sire!”

Ammon stared after the man. That was the third time Kyle had called him sire. Certainly no one could mistaken him for a person of rank
or status, especially when he was still wearing the worn clothes of a tender. Theo left the room and came back a moment later with a small empty sack and tossed it at Ammon’s feet. He looked up quizzically.

“That is for the rest of those scales. Collect every one of them that you can and try not to give any more of them away!” He looked at Shane and mumbled something under his breath.

The old man just chuckled. “Easy Theo, the boy has no idea; remember that.”

Out of the basket Kyle brought, Ammon pulled a piece of broiled chicken and held it in front of Fulgid’s snout and watched as he devoured it, bones and all.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Theo knelt to the floor and picked a golden scale from the small pile and turned it over in his hands. “Ammon, you need to save these for several reasons. When you have enough of them, it is tradition to have them sewn together into a suit of armor. They’re harder than steel and much lighter. But more importantly, a knight, as a symbol of contract, only gives the first scales of a hatchling to his servants. By giving one to Kyle, you have agreed to accept him as your employee. From now on you must be more careful what you do with these. Fortunately for you, Kyle is a good man and loyal to the king.”

“What…wait!” Ammon stammered. “He can’t be my servant! That’s impossible! I’m not knight! I’m just a tender!”

Shane chuckled and Theo rubbed his forehead. “Ammon, it appears that dragon of yours is going to live, and that means you’re much more than a tender. With King Erik’s blessings you will become a Dragon Knight and be sworn to uphold the laws of the crown. You will begin your education and training as soon as possible. Of course, you will have some catching up to do. Normally it’s three years of service in the Guard before you would be allowed to attend a hatch.”

Overwhelmed, Ammon could only sit and stare. Things were happening so fast that it felt like his head was spinning, and it all seemed so complicated. In less than a fortnight he’d gone from cleaning the ashes of a furnace to having servants? With a deep sigh he pulled another loose scale from Fulgid. His days of peaceful seclusion were long gone, of that he was sure.

***

It was near midnight when Kyle came to their room with four mugs and a large steaming pot of the same vile black mixture that Boris had given him. Kyle passed out the mugs and poured Ammon’s first and stood waiting for him to drink.

“I hope it’s satisfactory, sire? I ground the beans myself just for this occasion!”

Ammon nodded politely and tried to swallow without gagging. He wasn’t sure which was worse, the drink or being called sire. Under Kyle’s watchful eye, he reluctantly drained the cup, and despite his protests, Kyle gleefully refilled it. With a sigh, Ammon resigned himself that, unless he wanted to insult Kyle, he was destined to drink it. Sipping very, very slowly he hoped the other men would drain the pot before he emptied his cup.