Dragon Riders of Etrea—Chapter 2

Garlen stood there for a moment, dumbfounded while Rasud waited for him. He reached back and slipped the dagger into his heel and tried to cover the motion by pretending to adjust his boot. When he stood, Rasud was giving him a knowing smile.

“Good to see you haven’t changed in these past few days,” Rasud said, glancing down at Garlen’s boot. “Well, come on. We’ve got places to be.”

Garlen took a few cautious steps across his cell, but neither the guard nor the soldier raised any complaint. With a shrug, Garlen exited his cell.

The fat guard stood there next to him, keys in one hand and club in the other, a dark scowl on his face. The disappointment was clear on his face.

“Don’t miss me too much,” Garlen said, winking at the guard.

“You son of a whore,” the guard growled, raising his club.

Duke Ardun’s soldier caught the guard’s wrist with one hand and left his other on his sword hilt. “No,” he said simply, although the hard look he gave the guard made the fat man swallow heavily and nod. 

“Enough, come on,” Rasud said, grabbing Garlen’s arm. He passed him his sword belt, which at that time only had a long dagger on it. Garlen hadn’t brought his sword when he snuck into Ardun’s palace.

While Garlen strapped on his sword belt, the two men walked down the dark hallway with Ardun’s soldier behind them. The man gave his share of glares at Garlen, but held his tongue.

“So, are you going to explain what’s going on?” Garlen asked.

“Today is truly your lucky day,” Rasud said. “Well, technically it was yesterday. That’s when I talked to him. But today’s lucky as well.”

“Who?” Garlen asked. “Come on, out with it.”

“Duke Ardun was eager to watch you hang,” Rasud explained. “So much so that he sent his soldiers to round me up and punish me as well, even though I’d done nothing wrong. But as your accomplice, I was certainly guilty of something.” He quickly glanced over his shoulder at the soldier, who ignored him. “Simply put, he needs you.”

“You’re terrible at getting to the point, Rasud,” Garlen said.

“Oh, calm your breeches, I’m getting there,” Rasud replied. “Look, he needs something. More specifically, he needs something found, or more likely stolen. When I was dragged before him, I was smart enough to remind him that the best thief in all of Selfoss was sitting in a cell. He was reluctant to drop charges, but I made it pretty clear that his best chance was to hire you instead of kill you.” He cleared his throat. “And of course, that meant hiring me as well.”

“Of course,” Garlen said. “Where would I be without you?” He meant it as a joke.

“Dead,” Rasud said with a shrug of his narrow shoulders. “I mean, look at your face. It’s more bruised than not.”

“Okay, I get the point,” Garlen said. “So where are you taking me now?”

“To go see the duke,” Rasud said. “He can explain things a lot better than I can. But, suffice to say, we’re going to be busy for the next few weeks.”

They turned left and climbed up a set of rough-hewn stairs that had been worn smooth by centuries of boots. The darkness of the dungeons gave way to diffused sunlight as they reached the top of the stairs and entered a long hallway. Up here, the stone was pale gray and smoothly cut, with rich tapestries hanging on the wall between the arched windows.

“If I never smell that dungeon again, I’ll be happy,” Garlen muttered as they walked quickly down the long hallway.

“I don’t blame you,” Rasud said. “The smell that came from your cell was atrocious. What have you been eating?”

Garlen frowned at him. “Meat and dark beer,” he said flatly.

“Well, there’s your problem,” Rasud replied, his voice suddenly light. “You should try lighter fare, lots of plants and perhaps some wine. It aids digestion.”

“Oh, give over,” Garlen said.

They turned down another long hallway and Garlen’s sharp eyes weighed, measured, and valued every painting, wall hanging, and golden sconce they passed. Rasud caught him looking and gave a small shake of his head, but then laughed to himself.

“Finally,” Rasud said as they reached a large set of double doors. A soldier in heavy armor stood next to the doors and pulled one open so they could pass through. Rasud gave him a jovial greeting, and Ardun’s soldier just grunted. Garlen ignored him.

Afternoon sunlight struck Garlen in the chest and immediately warmed his stiff limbs. He wanted to stand there for a moment and soak in the sun’s rays, but the soldier behind him growled something rather unpleasant so he kept moving.

“So, Duke Ardun wants me to steal something for him,” Garlen muttered. “What a turn of events this is. I must have done something right in my past life.” He barked a laugh. “Can’t imagine what that could have been.”

“That way is faster,” Ardun’s soldier said from behind them. 

Rasud turned down the next street, following the man’s directions. Garlen glanced at him over his shoulder.

“So, what’s your name, good man?” he asked.

“Fuck you, that’s my name,” the soldier replied without pause.

Garlen grunted. Well, he did kill two of them, so there was bound to be some bad blood between him and the survivors. Hopefully that wouldn’t come into play in the near future.

“I would advise leaving them be,” Rasud said quietly. “And watch your tone with Ardun. I was barely able to convince him to keep you alive.”

“Noted,” Garlen said, looking around him.

Selfoss was a large city on the coast, so it was always busy, day or night. People from all parts of the world arrived on large ships, whether importing goods or coming for a new life. They weren’t particularly close to the harbor district at that moment, and the direction they were walking—north—took them even further from it. 

That being said, Garlen noticed piles of people with haggard eyes and dirty clothes wandering the streets. Everywhere he looked he saw them, and most lacking the tanned skin customary of the locals. 

“What happened while I was in the dungeon?” Garlen asked. “The city seems filled with refugees, unless I am mistaken. I’d recognize the hollow looks in their eyes anywhere. These people are recovering from a great loss. But there’s so many.”

“Can you explain more about that?” Rasud asked over his shoulder.

The soldier muttered a few curses in Garlen’s direction before continuing in short, clipped tones. “Yeah. Refugees from Peralta. They say the city was attacked. A dragon burned everything down.”

“Dragon?” Garlen asked, stopping in the middle of the street. Several people near him gasped at the word and looked as if they wanted to flee.

“Yeah,” the soldier said, clearly annoyed at both stopping and at talking to Garlen. “A dragon showed up in Peralta and burned everything down. No one knows why, but the survivors are flooding Svalbard and Selfoss alike. The king is dead, too. Peraltan king, that is, although the Akranian king was killed in the attack too, and now they got a new one. Owyn, I think.” He looked angry with himself at having said so many words.

Garlen blinked in confusion. “A dragon attacked Peralta?” He had heard a few stories of ancient snow dragons sleeping in volcanos when he was a child, but those lived far to the north. A plethora of children’s stories told tales of valiant dragon riders, but none had been seen in centuries. It was said they disliked being near human cities and so kept to themselves. Down here in the city of Selfoss, people had all but forgotten about dragons.

“I don’t get it either,” the soldier said, shifting his glare from Garlen to the refugees. “I don’t believe in children’s stories, but it’s hard to say thousands of people are lying when they all tell the same story.”

“What happened to the dragon?” Garlen asked, trying to remember any stories he had heard about dragons. “The northern snow dragons are known for being vicious, right? The southern ones interacted with humans.”

Rasud nodded. “Yes, I even remember a few stories about people riding the dragons down here. Well, not quite here. A two week walk to the east, in the furthest reaches of Etrea, in the mountains.”

“But this was a northern dragon,” Garlen continued. “So it just attacked the city? What then?”

“They say once it attacked the royal palace, it calmly flew away,” Rasud answered. “Strangest thing I’ve ever heard, I tell you. I have no explanation for it, but with all the people here, I suppose we should believe some stories are in fact reality.” He cleared his throat. “Speaking of which, Duke Ardun wants—”

“Enough,” the soldier said in a hard voice. “The duke will explain what he wants, not you. Get moving.”

They turned and kept walking, Rasud leading the way and the soldier offering the occasional shortcut using as few words as possible.

Everywhere around them, Garlen saw the same look in people’s eyes, the refugees at least. Bewilderment at what had happened, and hopelessness for their future. Some families had children, who fortunately seemed to be taking the hardships better. For them, stories coming to life were probably exciting. The parents just wondered how they were going to survive.

Several people gave odd or uncomfortable stares at Rasud as he passed by, but the short man just ignored it all. He was used to being an outcast. The humans thought of him as a dirty halfbreed, and he was too small to be of any use to the orcs that lived to the east. Not that he wanted to live among those savages; they were so wary of magic that Rasud would probably terrify them.

They finally approached a massive stone wall, easily ten feet tall. A large gate stood closed in front of them, with two guards posted behind it. When the soldier behind Garlen and Rasud moved and stepped forwards, they opened the gates for them. All of the soldiers glared at Garlen as he passed through the gate.

The glares continued as they walked down a long path that bisected a beautifully sculpted garden. Every soldier Garlen saw glared pure murder at him. Garlen had to remind himself that not only had he killed two of them, he stole past their supposedly tight security and proved them inadequate.

The palace loomed before them. It was a massive building of pale stone that stood four stories tall and dwarfed everything else in the region. Armed men patrolled the area, many more than Garlen remembered seeing in the month he studied their movements. Apparently they had upped their security since he proved it hadn’t been enough.

“He’s waiting,” a soldier standing next to the massive front door said. 

He pulled the door open as they approached, and spat on the ground right in front of Garlen, some of it catching his boot. Garlen knew he wouldn’t last a minute against all these men, so he simply smiled at the man, which served to further infuriate him. Good.

Once inside, a servant in Ardun’s livery gave a brief bow that almost served to hide his contempt for them. He led them through the mazelike hallways that were even more elaborate than what Garlen had seen in the royal palace.

The servant stopped before a large door of carved wood and turned to them. 

“You are about to address Duke Ardun,” he intoned. “Show respect at all times and speak when spoken to. Do you understand?”

They both nodded.

The servant’s lips tightened as if he were dissatisfied with that response, and turned back to the door. He turned the handle and pulled it open.

“The duke will see you now,” he said.