Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton) (22 page)

“I didn’t find it!” Ammon lowered his eyes. “It was given to me by my mother.”

Erik’s blue eyes peered at him intently. “Your mother gave this to you? Tell me about her, how did she get this ring?”

“I…I don’t know where she got it. I was little when she put it on a string around my neck. She died right after that.”

Erik was quiet for a minute. “Ammon, do you remember what your mother looked like?”

He nodded. “I remember some. She had long blonde hair and blue eyes, and she had a little mark on her cheek that deepened when she smiled.”

“Do you know how she died?”

Ammon’s voice grew tight. “No. She put the ring around my neck and died. I stayed with her for a long time but…she didn’t move. Then I started walking. That’s how Ms. Garret found me and she took me in. That’s all I remember!”

Boris nodded slightly. “Ms. Garret has been taking in orphans for years, that doesn’t surprise me.”

Erik studied the ring once more before he handed it back to Ammon. “A very interesting story. A story I wouldn’t believe if it were told by anyone else. However, several things lead me to believe you are indeed telling me the truth.

First, was the perfect description of your mother, Eleanor. She was a woman of remarkable beauty despite the small scar on her cheek she received as a child when picking wild thornberries. Second, you are not only the right age, but you have many of the same characteristics of your father Hale. Like you, he was also slight of build but strong as an ox and twice as stubborn. Were you to grow a beard, I suspect you’d look just like him.”

Looking at Boris and Theo, Erik leaned back in his chair and gestured with his hands. “I knew there was something familiar about Ammon, but I couldn’t quite place it. Now I know why. What is your opinion, knights?”

Boris cleared his throat. “Sire, I honestly would not know. I spent as little time as possible in the political arena surrounding the throne. My career, indeed, my entire life, has been devoted to the Kings Guard and as your military adviser.”

Theo sat quietly for a moment. “My career has been much the same, but not nearly as long as Captain Boris’. My knowledge of the Houses is probably even less than his. I’m sorry I cannot be of much help.”

Ammon listened carefully to every word. Was Erik actually saying that he knew his parents? Hale and Eleanor? Until now, he had never even known their names. That they were actually members of the Royal Court mattered little to Ammon. He had no idea what it even meant.

Suddenly, Erik jumped to his feet and shouted irritably. “Well, I am still the king am I not? Therefore I declare it to be true!” He pounded his fist on the table so hard that pieces of the saddle fell to the ground.

Startled, Ammon stared at the king in awe. The man standing in front of him was not the frail old man he’d first met. Instead, there stood a wizened man, full of vigor and strength and certainly not someone who could be easily dismissed, or trifled with. His voice boomed with authority.

“Knights, it is time for a celebration and a House recognition! Something the kingdom hasn’t seen in many years.” Erik smiled down at Ammon. “Back at the palace, it would take weeks of preparations, but out here we have only simple accommodations. I think tomorrow afternoon will be more than enough time to gather and feast.”

Turning his head to Boris and Theo, the king smiled even wider. “I think you’d best start informing everyone tonight! The cooks Theo brought in will want an early start.” He chuckled softly for a moment. “Have Knight Shane himself inform the head cook of tomorrows festivities!” Erik placed a hand on Ammon’s shoulder. “And find Kyle! Ammon will need help preparing for tomorrow and we’ll need a good breakfast to get started.”

Erik sat down across from Ammon and smiled.  “Ammon, tonight you will stay here with me. I’m sure you have many questions that deserve to be answered.”

With all the excitement, no one noticed Fulgid move to the back of the tent to stare at the back wall suspiciously. A few minutes later, a figure slipped silently from the shadows, and no one heard or saw the release of a messenger pigeon into the night.

***

Ammon pulled the covers over his head but it did nothing to stop Kyle’s voice or his persistent shaking of the bed.

"Ammon? It's time to rise sire! A busy day ahead!"

There was no point ignoring him, no more sleep was to be had this day. Reluctantly, Ammon swung his legs over the edge of the cot and rubbed his eyes until Kyle shoved a cup of the dreaded steaming liquid into his hands.

With an inaudible groan, he forced a sip past his lips and Kyle beamed in satisfaction. If nothing else, the foul black drink did seem to help wake him, so he continued to drink it. Erik had kept him up most of the night with unfathomable discussions about politics, the Houses of the Court, and other topics that were all far beyond anything he understood. Erik was convinced he was the only descendant from the House of Les and needed to know the intricacies of the palace, but Ammon had serious doubts. The more he heard of the politics of
Gaul, the more he wanted just a small farm in the country somewhere.

Kyle refilled the nearly empty mug and the moment he turned, Ammon dumped most of it behind the bag of Fulgid's old scales beside the bed. He had learned quickly that emptying the cup completely only seemed to encourage Kyle to give him more. So he cradled the cup in his hands until Boris entered the tent.

He nodded to Ammon and gratefully accepted a steaming cup from Kyle. He took a long sip and sat on the corner of the cot next to Ammon.

“Where’s Fulgid this morning?”

Ammon reached over and lifted the pillow to expose the sleeping dragon curled underneath. Fulgid had decided the space beneath the pillow was reserved for him and had made himself quite comfortable there. Ammon didn’t mind it too much except for the snoring.

Boris peered at the sleeping dragon and chuckled. “Well, I’ll be!” He shook his head. “He’s definitely different, isn’t he? So tell me, are you ready for today?”

One look from Ammon’s bloodshot eyes and Boris nearly spit his drink across the tent. “Try to curb your enthusiasm just a bit eh?”

Ammon stared down at his hands. “Boris, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do! King Erik talked all night about the House of Les and politics and all these responsibilities! I don’t understand any of it! All this because he thinks that I’m the son of Hale and Eleanor Les! To be truthful I’m not sure I fully believe that. Anyway, what difference does it make? Even if I am their son, the House is dead and anything of value was probably given away. What good is it to announce it to everyone that I might be an heir?”

Boris sat for a minute. “You really don’t understand do you?”

Ammon shook his head. "Not at all
."

“Well," Boris began. “I’m probably not the best one to explain it, but I'll tell you what I know. The king is convinced you are from the House of Les. That means the House is not dead, and it means you are the rightful heir to all the lands and properties of that House that were forfeited to the throne. You have just become a wealthy young man; very wealthy and a powerful figure in the political arena as well. Controlling that much currency in the kingdom makes any of your decisions carry a lot of weight in the
Royal Court. That’s not all though."

Boris’ crystal clear blue eyes focused intently on Ammon's face. “Tirate was next in line for the throne as the only heir of Erik’s house. Because he has attempted to assassinate Erik and declare himself king, he is a traitor and will be dealt with as such. His right to the throne has been cast out, which means the throne would be passed on to the next most powerful house. You, Ammon, are to be the next king of
Gaul.”

Ammon almost didn’t notice Kyle refilling his cup.

***

Kyle had a seamstress waiting outside the tent when Ammon went out for his breakfast. He felt his face redden as she measured him from head to toe and wrinkled her nose at his leather shirt and breeches. Wordlessly she scrawled numbers across a small sheet of paper and hurried away, leaving him standing there, feeling like a fool.

Erik had already left by the time Ammon arrived for breakfast, so he mounded as much food as he could fit on a plate and sat outside with Fulgid to eat. Everyone in the camp seemed to be bustling about on some errand or task, and he watched with mild interest until he and Fulgid had picked the plate clean.

With their bellies full, Ammon nestled Fulgid into the crook of his arm and strolled towards the riverbank. Perhaps there he could do something useful like catch fish while he thought more about becoming a farmer. All the talk of being part of a big House would be forgotten once Erik was back on the throne and Ammon would be free to do as he pleased. After everything that had happened, he was certain the king would loan him enough money to buy a small lot of land. Perhaps he could raise animals or vegetables to pay off the debt.

He was almost halfway to the river when Theo caught sight of him.

“Ammon, wait up!”

Ammon sighed. So much for a relaxing day of fishing.

“I need to borrow your sword!”

Puzzled, Ammon looked up at Theo’s face. “I left it next to my cot back at my tent. Are you going to give me lessons?”

Theo smiled. “No, not today. What about your collection of Fulgid’s scales, is that there too?”

Ammon nodded. “I know I’m supposed to keep those safe, but I have no place to put them and I can’t carry them around all the time!”

Theo chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose you could in this camp. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that for you right now. Anyway, I’ll see you in a little while!”

Ammon scratched Fulgid’s ears and watched as Theo trotted back to camp. “I guess we’ll get to fish after all!”

Near the bank of the river, he stopped and selected one of several fishing poles leaning against a tree. Almost everyone took turns fishing to help provide the camp with food, but today the banks were deserted. He sat on a flat rock at the water’s edge while Fulgid stretched out in a sunny spot and watched. The
Olog River ran fast and deep, but it held a plentiful supply of fish. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and listened to the roar of the water as it passed by.

By noon he’d caught half a dozen good-sized fish and a few small ones that Fulgid ate before Ammon could even get them off the line. He was about to cast the line upstream again when a dark shadow fell over him and a voice rumbled like distant thunder.

“What are you doing?”

Startled, Ammon paused in mid-cast to look at Derek. “I’m fishing!”

“Oh.” The big man bent down and gently scratched Fulgid behind the ears with a thick finger.

Ammon smiled. Kyle had explained that during the war, he’d found Derek as a baby beside the river and brought him home to his sister to raise as her own. Despite his fearsome appearance, the man was as gentle and as simple as a lamb. For some reason he had developed an amusing
fascination towards Fulgid. No matter what he was doing, Derek always stopped to admire Fulgid and the little dragon seemed content to accept his doting.