Silver Dragon (5 page)

Alto groaned as soon as he was away, and then he continued down the hall and made his way to the jarl's office. The door was cracked open so he stepped in and shut it behind him. Teorfyr was sitting at his desk and looking up at him.

"Patrina tells me she made you her champion," the
jarl began.

Alto nodded. "Yes, my
lord, she did. I should not have accepted but, well…"

"But she's a pretty girl and she's got you wrapped around her finger," Teorfyr said with a chuckle. "
Trust me, I know. She's so much like her mother, it scares me at times. Except she'd rather play with swords and axes than dolls and books. She's got a sail full of air for you, too, you know."

Alto nodded. Hearing it confirmed didn't do him any good. Not anymore. Now Alto had other goals, other needs that he had to take care of.
"Jarl, the favor?"

"I've been thinking about this for some time now, Alto. I wasn't sure how to get away with it until now, but that business in the mountains clinched it for me. The eastern edges of the Northern Divide were once home to the dwarves, but we now know what became of them thanks to you and your friends. There was once a town that dwarves and men built and lived together in called Rockwood. The dwarves are gone and the town long buried, but I would like to see it rebuilt and resettled. And I'd like you to be the
Thane of Rockwood, which would be much the same as a baron in your kingdom."

Alto stopped his head from shaking as Teorfyr misunderstood the request he wanted to ask him. He stared in mute shock as the
jarl went on.

"As
thane, you'd be a noble, and that gives you the rights and bloodline to ask for Patrina's hand," he finished. He looked at Alto, waiting for a response.

"Jarl, I'm honored," Alto stammered. "But that's not the favor I would ask."

"It's not?" Teorfyr's brows drew together.

"My sister, Caitlyn. I need to find someplace safe for her."

"What of the rest of your family? Is she not safe there? Is there some local boy she's gotten in trouble with?"

Alto shook his head. "There's no one else, just her."

Teorfyr frowned and leaned back. After a moment of thought, he gestured to the seats behind Alto. "Sit down, lad, and help me understand. Patrina came back nearly a week ago going on and on about how bad she felt for your family and how nice they all were. Now I'm getting the feeling things aren't what she thought they were?"

"They were, but they've changed."

"Changed how?"

Alto took a deep breath. "Changed a lot. Caitlyn and I are all that’s left
of my family."

Teorfyr rocked forward in his chair and slammed his hands on his desk. "Saints
, son! What happened?"

"That Silver Dragon Knight, Beck. He went to their farm and he killed them. He was waiting for me and was going to use Caitlyn as bait, but I showed up too early I guess."

Teorfyr stared at Alto for a long minute before he asked, "Is he dead?"

Alto nodded.

"Good."

"Not good enough, my
lord. Beck was doing the bidding of someone else. The man in charge, a wizard named Fizzulthorp. And that means that the wizard was doing the bidding of something else. Sarya."

"You think they're still after you?"

"I'm still alive."

"And
your sister?" the jarl asked.

"To get to me, yes."

Teorfyr grunted. "She'll stay with my family. I'll treat her as my own daughter, you have my word."

Alto felt one of the many weights on his shoulders lift off. He staggered backwards and felt his leg hit the chair Teorfyr had suggested a few moments ago. He all but collapsed into it and had to blink back the moisture in his eyes. When he'd regained control
, he nodded. "Thank you, my lord. I don't have the words to—"

"Silence," Teorfyr insisted. "Your family is my family, Alto. We've fought together and spilled blood together. You've taken up a cause that puts me in your debt, even if you are barely old enough to piss standing up!"

Alto smirked in spite of himself at the jarl's crude humor.

"What will you do?"

"I'm going to make sure she's safe. I'll make sure everyone's safe."

"The last man to wield that blade had notions like that. It didn't work out so well for him
." Teorfyr stared at the sword hilt hanging over Alto's shoulder.

Alto stood up and slipped Kevard's Blade and scabbard off his back. He laid it on the desk and sat back down. "My
lord, Kevard's Blade is yours. I am no longer fit to wield it."

"You're daft
, lad!"

Alto shook his head. "No, it stopped answering my call. I have another blade, the sword I took from the knight. This one I've earned. Kevard's Blade is no longer mine to use."

Teorfyr reached out and drew the legendary sword from its scabbard. He smiled as he moved it slowly through the air. "I feel it," he said to himself. He nodded and sheathed it again before looking at Alto. "I don't know what you can do, nor how you can do it, but you've got my support, lad."

Alto nodded. "I thank you,
jarl. I'm sorry I can't fulfill my oath to you or your daughter."

"You make sure you take care of your sister and yourself, then we'll worry about that."

Alto nodded. "I look forward to the day," he said without much hope.

* * * *

Alto opened the door to the room he'd been given and held the lantern up so he could see how it was laid out. He cried out when he saw Patrina standing in the room with her back to him. His eyes went to the bed and he saw the impression from where she'd been sitting in the dark until she heard him fumbling with the latch.

"Shut the door," Patrina said in a whisper.
"I've brought your shirt back."

Alto shut the door behind him
and then sat the lantern on the table beside the bed. Patrina reached up with one arm and undid a clasp on the cloak she wore. She pushed it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, revealing his shirt that he'd given her to wear when her dress had been torn. The shirt was large enough on her that the bottom fell halfway to her knees.

Patrina turned and stepped closer to him, pausing when she was only a few feet away. "Alto, I know what I want. I'm not a foolish girl, not anymore. If this is something I can't have then that's your fault, not mine. I've talked to my father and he agreed that he'd arrange things. But I can't wait. Not after what happened. Not after what I saw you do. I love you, Alto. I need you."

Patrina stepped closer to him before he could fight past the fog in his head that tied up his tongue. She pressed her lips to his and grabbed his hands when he didn't respond. She raised them and placed them upon her chest, urging him to take over and feel her through her flimsy dress.

Alto gasped and backed away. He shook his head. "Trina, stop."

Patrina stared at him, her chin quivering and her eyes filling. "Don't you want me?"

Alto growled. Did he want her? Saints above and below, of course he did! But he couldn't have her. Not now. Later? Maybe, but not now with everything else going on. He knew her
, though; he knew if she thought he did, then she'd do anything and wouldn't accept no for an answer. It was part of her stubborn charm.

"I'm leaving in the morning," Alto told her. He averted his eyes and clenched his fist as though it could take the sensation of her breast in his palm away.

"Where are you going?" she managed.

"I'm not sure. I have to protect my sister."

"What about everyone else? Don't you want to protect them, too? What about me?"

"Yes, everyone else
, too. And you. I have to keep you all safe and the only way to do that is by leaving."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Patrina snapped at him. "How can leaving make you safe?"

"It doesn’t make me safe; it makes everyone else safe."

Patrina stared at him. "You're not making sense."

"I know, but it's for the best."

"I'm so sick and tired of people thinking they know what's for the best!" Patrina shouted at him. "What about me? Don't you think maybe I'm the best for you?"

Alto closed his eyes and swallowed. He felt a rush of air touch his face and then he heard his door slam shut. He opened his eyes again and saw that he was alone. Patrina had grabbed her cloak and fled.

Alto co
llapsed on the bed without removing even his boots.

Chapter 4

"Out for an evening stroll?"

Alto spun around and saw Kar leaning against the wall of the jarl's hall. He puffed on his pipe and then pushed away from the wall to walk closer to him. "A bit chilly for most but I find the cold helps clear my thoughts."

Alto grunted and slowed. He could see the royal stables from where he stood and wanted nothing more than to keep walking towards them.

"You're not the same young man I once knew," the wizard observed.

Alto scowled. "Of course I am! Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"Everyone?"

He shrugged. "You're the second person today to question whether I'm really me."

Kar chuckled. "I've no doubt you are who you are. I mean to say you've changed. There was always a boyish charm to you, but it seems to have faded. What happened to you under that mountain? How did you escape?"

"I don't have time for your questions, Kar," Alto snapped.

"You don't? What is so pressing that you must run off? Seems you've singlehandedly stalled Sarya's forces, why not take a few minutes to talk to an old friend? Mind you, I'm not saying I'm old."

Alto sighed at the wizard's attempt to make him smile. "Thork pulled me out of the river and healed me."

Kar scowled. "The shaman of Jarook again? I thought he'd been run off."

"He likes to stay close to things like this. He can feel the fear, he said. Helps him find special people."

"Like you?" Kar accused.

"Yes
."

"Have you stopped to wonder what it is that makes you special?" Kar asked him. "I mean, why you, a simple farmer's son?"

Alto bristled. He was no farmer; he was a warrior. He'd fought and killed both men and monsters alike. He'd paid in blood for the title, too—his own and others. "I never asked to be special."

Kar shrugged. "But you never looked the other way, either."

"Is there a point to this?" Alto snapped at him.

Kar puffed on his pipe a final time before upending it and stomping out the glowing root that fell. "There's always a point, my boy, it's just that I'm not always sure what it is right away. Sooner or later it will come to me."

"I see why Tristam gets bothered by you," Alto muttered.

The wizard frowned. "Where did the inquisitive young man go? The boy who was eager to learn. Do you have all the answers now?"

"I know enough."

"Indeed, but enough for what?"

"Enough to know what I have to do."

Kar's bushy eyebrows rose and fell. He nodded before changing topics. "Cloistered amongst these fine people
, I'm lacking my books and normal contacts. I've been able to do some research, though."

Alto waited, hoping Kar had a point this time that didn't come back to question him.

"The Order of the Silver Dragon is fairly new; few people have heard of it. It does bear a striking resemblance to sects that have sprung up throughout history, though. They called themselves some variant of the Order of the Dragon," Kar explained.

Alto held up his hand to stop the wizard. "Beck called himself a Knight of the Silver
Dragon."

Kar raised his eyebrow. "On a first name basis with the enemy?"

"Does it matter? He's dead."

"It shows a familiarity beyond a single encounter," Kar surmised. When Alto didn't offer to explain it further
, he went on, "Whatever the case, these groups are one and the same, I believe. They seem to rise up when a dragon becomes active."

"Aren't they always active?"

Kar shrugged. "It's theorized that dragons can sleep for dozens or even hundreds of years at a time. Some keep their predations on a small scale, feeding on animals or uncivilized creatures in remote regions. Some let others carry out their efforts and stay in their strongholds, reaping the rewards."

"Like Sarya," Alto said.

"So it would seem," the wizard agreed. "Do you know of the last time a dragon was seen in this area?"

"I heard something about it being a long time ago
." Alto glanced at the stable again, anxious to be on his way. Kar wasn't giving him anything useful. Educational, perhaps, but it wasn't helpful.