Read Theft of Dragons (Princes of Naverstrom) Online
Authors: John Forrester
Theft of Dragons (Princes of Naverstrom)
Copyright © 2014 by John Forrester All right reserved. Published by Amber Muse. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system. Cover Design by Anca Gabriela Marginean Visit:
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Chapter One
ON A PLACID lake high in the Aradisian Mountains, a boy rowed his canoe through the morning mist, dreaming of the day he would kill a king as his grandfather once did. Tael had no great love for his grandfather, he was a cruel and demanding task master, his features twisted and gnarled, and his eyes as wild as the strange gods he worshipped in secret. No, Tael loved dragons and the dragon stories his grandfather would tell him, of the days when the dragons flew free, before King Braxion conquered the dragon kingdom, and stole or killed all of dragon kind. When the Hakkadians had arrived—lured with the King's gold—and with them the ancient power of beast shamanism, they tamed the centuries-hardened minds of the dragons.
Now the beasts were bred and controlled by King Braxion the Bold, or as he was known to those who despised him, Braxion the Bovine, as he was as ugly and stubborn as a bull. As a boy, Tael had first seen King Braxion riding his massive black dragon over the shimmering Ferelian Sea to the south, at the port city of Cranth. Tael had clenched his sword as the hideous-faced king dismounted and addressed his subjects. He vowed then to slay the King, not out of any familial duty, but because Braxion possessed something Tael craved more than air: the dragons.
Tael slapped the still lake with his paddle, knowing it was ridiculous for him to think he could ever get close to the king, let alone kill him. His job was to catch fish and he hadn't done much catching of anything all morning. Saulb always yelled at him for daydreaming, telling him to keep his mind on his work, but the kind of work Tael was assigned made his brain boggle with boredom.
Why had his grandfather left him here in this stupid village? Tael was an outsider here, and treated almost like a slave. Even though he'd lived here for over a year, first arriving after his seventeenth birthday, the eeriness of the mountains unsettled him in a relentless way. He missed the warmth and ebb and flow of the sea. But being here was better than getting killed by the assassins who hunted him.
The village from this distance looked small and pitiful, just a few huts with smoke spiraling up from the breakfast fires. Tael imagined a black dragon swooping down and shooting great spirals of flame over the pathetic village, and Saulb screaming in agony instead of yelling at him for not doing his work. After a year of waiting for his grandfather's return, Tael was sick of the village and the people, and despite all the warnings of the dangers of the world outside, he was past ready to leave. Trikar, the capitol city of the Kingdom of Valance, was waiting for him. The dragons were waiting. And the King's heart was waiting for the kiss of Tael's sword.
But the warning words of his grandfather haunted him:
The Black Heart Clan lies in wait across the world, their spies are everywhere...they know you, wait for you. Their blades are sharpened and ready to slice your throat, little one.
He had lived with this fear for most of his life. Of moving around with the constant shroud of suspicion tainting every move he made. Glances interpreted as death threats. Smiles taken as pronouncements of violence. He'd learned to grasp meaning in every look cast upon him by strangers. And ignoring to do so had been the source of his many failures over the years. Including the failure to keep his parents from being killed—at the time when they needed him the most.
Tael grimaced at the memory and shoved it back into the dusty recesses of his mind. Out here in the cold wind of autumn, memories replaced ghosts as hauntings. Of blood and shrieks and cackling from the Black Heart assassin. Tael was twelve when it happened and had cringed behind the statue of the Goddess Mirra, gripping a dagger so hard it stung his hand. But he was paralyzed by fear and shock. Or was it cowardice that kept him from helping his mother as she swung a useless chalice at the assassin's head? Grandfather had told him that he'd be dead now if Tael had been stupid enough to face his parent's attacker. Most days he wished he were dead instead of living like this. The only thing that kept him going was the desire to one day kill the King. The man who paid the bounty for his parents to be murdered.
He had to face the facts: his grandfather wasn't coming back. Since his parents had been killed he'd never been away from him for more than several weeks. Off on some mission, meeting with old friends, or negotiating an alliance with a royal at the Valance Court. Tael knew Grandfather still held power and influence in the kingdom, despite the death of his son, for he was a secretive man, and had kept his wife and son away from the capitol, eschewing the courtly life for one of nature and solitude. A fact that made Tael question his grandfather even more.
The old sly fox was caught and probably skinned by now. Tael frowned, scared to go out alone in the world but at the same time he felt excited at the prospect. And did the Black Heart assassins really know him? He was practically an adult now and bore no distinguishing marks, other than the same piercing green eyes he'd inherited from his mother. Did he bear a resemblance to his father? He bent over and peered into the now still lake. The undulating mirror showed the black hair and high forehead of his father, but the sharp nose and full lips were definitely from his mother. He saw both his parents in his features and told himself that would help in his disguise.
They are looking for a boy of eighteen, they know you exist, but they know nothing of your name, and thank the gods for that, for there is power over a man in the knowledge of his name.
Remembering Grandfather's words brought a wave of nostalgia over Tael. His grandfather had been cruel but he was also honest and never twisted words or meanings. Maybe too honest. Perhaps the overabundance of honesty was part of his cruelty. Tael had always wished that he never knew all the things about the world that Grandfather had told him. Especially about the Hakkadians.
Tael seized the oars and rowed like death was whispering behind him. He was leaving the past in the wake, leaving the memories that haunted him, and leaving Saulb and this stupid village forever. He didn't care about the dangers of the world outside and he was tired of running. His father faced danger and tried to protect his mother from the assassin. And Father had done more than that, his blade had sliced and stabbed the assassin countless times in their dance of death until Mother's scream had distracted him. Tael wished he'd never seen the blood spraying from his father's neck, he wished he could erase the memory of the groaning sound as he sank dying to the ground. If only he'd done something to help Father. Maybe his parents would still be alive.
When the canoe dug into the lake's bottom, Tael leapt forward and landed on the rocky shore. The day was still young and he was determined to reach Perinith before nightfall. He had kept his backpack ready for escape, just as his grandfather had taught him, in the event he had to flee the village. After he dragged the canoe up to the grass, he flipped it over to let it dry in the morning sun. He strode over to where Loir and Kani were tending to an iron pot filled with simmering rice gruel. The smell was tantalizing, as was Kani's warm, inviting smile. She was a year younger than him and shy, never allowing her eyes to settle on him more than a few seconds. Likely she was afraid of her father's anger. Saulb was as suspicious as a jealous wife. Not that it stopped Tael from pleasing Kani in the dead of night while Saulb snored.
"Yer hands are empty...nothing biting out there?" Loir cast him a disappointed expression as she stirred the gruel.
Tael shook his head and sat on the log near the fire. "I've been thinking about it for a long while. Now's the time. I suspect I'll be leaving."
Kani's eyes widened in surprise. "Leaving? But I thought it was dangerous for you out there?"
"Shush, child." Loir glanced at her daughter. "You weren't supposed to know that. And it's only natural for Tael to want to leave us, who would want to live here? Tis a hard life living here in the mountains."
The flap of the nearby hut opened, and Saulb stomped over, a scowl twisting his sunbaked face. The ring of fat around his indolent mid-section jiggled as he waddled over.
"Anytime you want to leave, woman, just say the word." He spat into the fire and it sizzled, the smell tainting the sweet scent of the gruel. "Good luck surviving on your own...or maybe you prefer spreading your legs in a whorehouse for your food and shelter? Not that any man would pay to have you."
