Dragon Business, The by Kevin J. Anderson

Author:Kevin J. Anderson [Anderson, Kevin J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2013-11-19T06:00:00+00:00

AFTER REEGER SET off toward the cave’s side entrance to make final preparations, Sir Dalbry gave his armor a freshening so that he looked like a proper dragon slayer, while Cullin made his own way back to Old Snort to reconnoiter. He arrived just in time to watch King Norrimun and Duke Kerrl vanish into the cave.

He found that especially peculiar. While Cullin knew there was no dragon inside, he couldn’t believe the other two men would be so foolish . . . or brave? Either way, the current scheme had no room for additional would-be dragon slayers.

He crept forward, alert and suspicious. Outside the ominous lair, he spotted a scrap of blue fabric, a scarf he was sure he had seen on the floor of Princess Affonyl’s chamber after the explosion. How had that gotten there? It seemed unlikely—

Suddenly, he realized that Duke Kerrl must be perpetrating a ruse of his own. Had he sneaked away with one of Affonyl’s scarves so that he could use it to lure King Norrimun into the lair? Did he believe a dragon lurked inside?

Cullin hadn’t trusted the ambitious duke (and not just because he was a suitor for the beautiful princess). Kerrl was surely up to no good.

He tiptoed up to the cave mouth, following the two men. Sir Dalbry would arrive momentarily to publicly challenge the dragon, but Cullin couldn’t afford to wait.

Inside the dim passageway, he nearly ran into the duke, who was bending over King Norrimun’s unconscious, corpulent form. The startled duke lurched to his feet, and Cullin accused, “You just attacked the king!”

Kerrl’s white teeth flashed in the dimness, because his smile was so broad. “No, uh . . . he bumped his head. The dragon smacked him with its tail as it fled. He—”

How stupid did the duke think he was? He flicked his gaze to the unconscious king. “His hands and ankles are bound. Did the dragon do that, too?”

Cullin drew his practice sword and held it in front of him, looking intent and unwavering. He tried to imitate the intimidating poise of Sir Dalbry’s Raven on Corpse stance. Cullin was extremely skilled—at bluffing, if not at sword fighting.

Duke Kerrl glared at him, also holding out his sword, but he seemed just as reluctant to fight. For a long, tense moment, the two engaged in a sharp-edged duel of bluffing.

Outside, he heard Sir Dalbry stride up in front of the mouth of the lair, playing his role. “Foul dragon! I have come to slay you and avenge Princess Affonyl.”

Seeing no escape out the main entrance, Kerrl backed farther into the cave, and Cullin said, “Aren’t you worried about the dragon?”

The duke said, “There is no dragon. After Affonyl disappeared, I had a long and painful talk with old Mother Singra—painful for her, though I rather enjoyed it. Eventually, she confessed to the game she and the princess were playing. But I don’t know how you’re involved in it.”

Cullin yelled over his shoulder, “Dalbry, we’re in here! Duke Kerrl attacked the king and tied him up.

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