The Dragon's Blade: The Reborn King by Michael R. Miller

Author:Michael R. Miller [Miller, Michael R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Fantasy, Adventure, battle, War, dragons, sword & sorcery, Action & Adventure, warrior, knight, quest, lore, Saga, Historical, sorcery, Magic, dune
ISBN: 9781909122666
Publisher: Acorn Independent Press
Published: 2015-11-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

FRIENDS AND FOES

DARNUIR TRAVELLED WITH Scythe back towards Torridon’s gates to meet the Chevaliers. As they crossed the long bridge from the Great Crannog to the shore, Darnuir noticed Garon dishing out portions of porridge from a large pewter pot to the youngest and sickest. The oats were watery but graciously accepted all the same. Slung over his spooning arm was a basket of the dried, smoked fish from the town. Garon broke up pieces of the trout and salmon and handed them out as well. And there I was playing with my sword this morning. Like I was a child again and Cosmo had given me a new, larger stick. He felt compelled to join Garon, to make amends for his selfishness, but Scythe needed him too. I cannot be everywhere at once.

They reached the pebbled shore and began the difficult task of pushing through the crowds into the town. Torridon was full to bursting. It was even worse than earlier that day now everyone was awake. The fumes from the large smoke houses filled the air overhead, enhancing the cramped feeling. The Chevaliers had come a little way into town and had tried to clear a space free from the bedraggled around themselves. They were the most heavily-armoured men Darnuir had ever encountered. They remained mounted upon their enormous horses and towered above the refugees. Darnuir had seen few enough horses in his time but they had been less than half the size of these creatures. One man’s face was hidden behind his visor, while his companion had deemed to lift his, holding a silk handkerchief under his nose.

“Ah, about time,” the chevalier with the kerchief snapped haughtily. “Are you Edwin then?” he directed at Scythe.

“No,” Scythe sneered, “Captain Edwin is still to return form the marshes. I’d have thought this would have been explained to you.”

“We have been told a great many things from a number of people,” the Chevalier said. “And none of them have been told the same way twice. Who are you then? Your leathers give you both away as hunters of the Boreac Mountains. When leaving Brevia, we had word that the mountains had succumbed to the demons.”

“I am Scythe, Captain of the Boreac Hunters. The mountains were under siege but we who survived have escaped and are fleeing still. My companion here is Darnuir, King of Dragons.”

“King?” the Chevalier said, raising his thin eyebrows, “and of dragons, no less. Yes, that was one of the tales we heard while we waited here.” The man examined Darnuir intently. “Darnuir? Could it be true? I have rarely seen a dragon with a burgeoning beard. My name is Raymond, for what it is worth.”

“I shall not waste your time, Raymond,” Darnuir said. He brought out the Dragon’s Blade with ample ceremony for the men to see. Raymond lowered his kerchief and momentarily forgot the odour in the air. I’m beginning to like having an effect on people. Raymond’s companion remained unstirred. “Yes, Darnuir is my name, and here is the Dragon’s Blade.

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